Short Stories
by queenpearl
Summary: Anything that didn't make it into the main "Leviathan" or "Ships Speak" series go here. Chapter 79: Some explanations are long overdue so here's the first one for ya'all!
1. 20 Things You Cannot Do in the Silent Se

1\. Be noisy! A noisy sub is a dead sub.

2\. When you receive your nuclear reactor do not go around exclaiming "walking bomb here!"

3\. I am not allowed to play sneak a peek on other ships mating rituals.

3b. Even if they are incredibly interesting.

4\. During naval exercises, I am not allowed to sing "We Will Rock You" to destroyers.

5\. Under no circumstances should I ever surface without checking to see what's above me first.

6\. SOSOS is not a toy!

7\. Hydrophones are not bits of seaweed you can play with.

8\. When tailing a Soviet sub, I am not allowed to shout out "Nice screws, red!"

9\. Do not scream "Oh my god we're gonna die" every time a Soviet sub performs a Crazy Ivan.

10\. Yes, Parche's sail is full of medals, deal with it!

11\. The "nuclear launch" button is not the "big red button I can hit as many times as I want and nothing happens" nor is it ever to be used for recreational purposes.

12\. No complaining about how long the process to fire a weapon takes, the safety protocols are there for a reason!

13\. Barrel rolling is for planes, keep it that way!

14\. We do not train our subs by hanging them upside down by their props, nor may I tell visiting Soviets this is the case!

15\. Crash diving is a maneuver used only for emergencies. The resulting decompression sickness is not worth the adrenaline rush.

16\. Ramming a Soviet sub underwater just because you don't like them is not the answer for everything and Arleigh has sworn she will sink the next sub that comes in with such a related injury.

17\. Destroyers and Submarines may have their long history but that's no excuse to play "nip the keel" in port.

17b. Or at sea.

17c. Or anywhere else!

18\. I may not arrive home and proceed to get "slopping drunk and spill all the classified secrets".

19\. Nautilus is not "noisy bitch!" even if she is very noisy.

20\. "FU", "Neener, neener" and "Kick stern and take names" are not appropriate responses when asked our intentions by an unknown force.


	2. A Life of Death

Of all the jobs ships had worldwide, none were more dangerous than dredging. More dangerous than crabbing, where different factors could kill you. In dredging a ship's job couldn't kill then, it did kill them. Slowly, painfully. The sand they sucked up clogged their arteries, causing eventual heart failure. Every time they went out, they were racing the clock.

Dredgers used massive pipes to suck a mixture of sand and water into the pipes. Quite literally, they were clogging their arteries every time they did their jobs. Hear disease thus ran in the family.

Usually it was after a couple of trips that the effects showed but bigger pipes meant more sand and more clogging. This is what Cristobal Colon discovered halfway through her first job. She was dredging in the Elbis River, Europe's busiest shipping lane.

Headaches plagued her, causing some disorientation. Her crew had to work hard to maintain her position as her electronic readings fluctuated. It wasn't long before her captain, Jean, inquired about it.

"Something's wrong." He said as he absentmindedly stroked her navigation panel.

Cristobal purred, her port thrusters briefly stopping and causing an alarm to blare. Embarrassed, she quickly started them again.

"Does that happen often?" asked a cameraman.

Cristobal sighed. "Yes." She replied. "Increasingly so. It's a common issue with ships of my breed though."

The cameraman remained unconvinced but said nothing. Jean however, narrowed his eyes. He had a hunch as to what was ailing his ship but he kept his mouth shut with the camera's around. Those media people could smell a story from across the pond!

As the night shift took over, Jean whispered something to his first mate out of the cameraman's hearing range. First Mate Tim Holland nodded. He murmured something in German and the captain left for the night.

The watch began to silence and remained so for the first hour until Tim broke it.

Speaking in German, his ships' native tongue, he addressed her _"Sie habe mit koptschmerzen."_ (You've been having headaches) He said.

 _"Ja. Seit meinem drilfen last."_ (Yes since my hird load)She replied.

 _"Warum hast due nichts gesagt."_ (Whydidn't ou say anything?) He asked.

 _"Ich gluube nicht, es war so schlimn."_ (I didn't think it was that bad) She answered.

 _"Sie wissen, iterzkrankneit isteine funkfion von ihrer rasse."_ (You know heart disease is a feature of your breed)He growled.

She bowed her head. _"Ich weiB."_ (I know)She sighed.

 _"Sobald diese arbeit erledigt ist, ich habe sie in Trockendak druegt, dass thre arterien reinigen."_ As soon as this job is done, I'm having you moved to drydock to have your arteries cleaned) He said.

She sighed. No ship liked drydock and thisprocedure was long and tedious. However, it was better than the alternative. _"Fur michin ordnung."_ (Fine with me) She said.

 _"Danke, Cristobal."_ (Thank you Cristobal)

 _"Danke."_ (Thank you.) She replied back at him.

As the job continued, Cristobal found it increasingly difficult to focus on her job. Her headaches just got worse. Soon she was relying on her crew to guide her as she moved about with eyes tightly closed and teeth bared. Having them opened hurt too much. Other ships looked at her and shook their heads sadly, they knew what was going on.

A Spanish freighter approached on her port side. Even with her eyes closed, Cristobal's highly sensitive instruments could sense her. A gentle bow touched her side.

"Morte." She sighed.

Cristobal knew enough Spanish for that one. She whimpered.

"You have to head in, Senorita." The freighter murmured.

"I know. I can't." Cristobal replied.

"This job will kill you." She said.

"Not if I finish it fast enough." Cristobal replied.

"That may fly with other dredgers but you are different. You're so big that the more you work, the more it will effect you. If you continue, you will die."

Cristobal opened her eyes, grimacing at the pain that caused. Pushing through it she replied "I have to finish this job."

The freaighter sighed. "I used to be a transport before this. You call me when you need help. You got that?" She asked.

Cristobal nodded, opting to ignore that she'd used a "when" sentence instead of an "if". "I will." She promised, touched by the offer.

The freighter nodded and continued on her way. The bright colors and sounds were too much for Cristobal and the dredger closed her eyes which alleviated the problem to some degree.

As the days dragged by, Cristobal's headaches only got worse. Soon the big ship couldn't stand even the slightest sound or pinprick of light.

Jean was getting worried. For as ship like Cristobal, so young and full of life, to die now was unforgivable. He could not allow it to happen. His fingers reached out through the open window, gently touching the cold metal of her hull. Cristobal gave a low hum but it was weak sounding as she was too weak to even purr.

"I'll get you back. I will." Jean declared.

"I trust you." Cirstobal rasped. She would never know how much that statement would come back to haunt him.

Cristobal worked hard and finished her job on time. But she'd run herself into the ground practically and had no strength left to leave the dock. So, she called in some help.

The Spanish freighter who's name was Marianne, was there in an instant. She took Cristobal straight to the medical docks. It didn't take long before the verdict was in.

"If you'd come here days earlier, you would've been fine. The sands gone all around your body. Some has left the veins and entered your central nervous system. It will start causing irreversible brain damage." said the hospital ship, Africa Mercy.

Cristobal swallowed. "Can you-can you get it out?" She asked.

"No. I can only remove that which is in your bloodstream. You have a 60% chance of surviving and less than a 5% chance of emerging with no further damage." Africa said.

Cristobal nodded. "I understand." She said quietly. "Get on with it."

Africa nodded and set to work. She put Cristobal under and hooked her to a blood circulation machine that would literally put her blood through a strainer and get the sand out. The whole procedure took 6 hours.

Though Africa Mercy didn't say it, Cristobal knew she'd never be the same ship again. She was born as a dredger, it was the only logical career path. Now, she knew she could never go back there.

She wondered about other careers a ship like her could pursue. Deep sea exploration would be an obvious choice. She was already rigged for the seabed. But remembering what Africahad told her, Cristobal decided against it. Having brain damage would make it too risky for her to be out there alone. Then an idea came to her.

"Africa!" She called, causing the medic to turn. "I hear Mercy Ships is looking for a new vessel."

"Are you making an offer?" Africa asked, eyes twinkling.

"Are you taking it?" came the reply.

Africa chuckled. "That can be arranged." She said.

...

It was several months later that Mediterranean Mercy was commissioned. Her white hull shimmered and her ice blue eyes darted about excitedly.

"Easy now" murmured Africa at her side.

The two ships had been assigned to work together. While Mediterranean had medical training, she'd become more of a posterchild for the company. Buying her was an act of charity in itself and Mercy Ships wasted no time playing the media on the fact.

Mediterranean, when she wasn't busy helping her fleetmates in various parts of the globe, was sailing around to different ports and giving speaches, helping with fundraiswers and other things.

One port she visited came two years into her new job. Though she didn't look it outwardly, Mediterranean was beginning to show signs of Alzheimers and early Schizophrenia. She carried a guarded look in her blue eyes as she pulled up to her pier.

Unlike her fleetmates, who were closed off toe everyone but patients, Mediterranean was a public ship and had no issue giving tours. One man stood out. Mediterranean recognized him but said nothing as Jean came aboard. His former ship was unrecognizable. He made his way to the bow.

"You've done a lot with your life." He said.

"I've worked hard for it." She replied crisply.

He frowned. "I suppose an apology won't cut it then?" He asked.

"You promised." She said.

"I had no idea." He replied. "I'm not a doctor!"

"But I am." She growled. "Leave Jean. I've moved on from that life. So should you."

With a sigh, Jean followed his ships' command. "Goodbye Cristobal."

He received no reply.

...

Another 5 years passed and at 8 years of age, Mediterranean Mercy may as well have been 25. With every rib showing as she lost the ability to absorb vital nutrients from her food and her mental state deteriorating, she was retired from active service.

Mercy Ships moved her to the Elbis river in Germany, the one place that Mediterranean took pride in.

Africa Mercy begged for time off and not once did she leave her friends' side. Mediterranean's Altzheimers had evolved into chronic Schizophrenia. She no longer recognized anything around her and the slightest change would spook her.

6 months into her retirement she lost the dexterity to eat on her own. Africa had to spoon feed her. 2 months after that she completely lost the ability to absorb the nutrients that had been since injected by IV. She was wasting away before Africa's eyes.

Early one afternoon, on a day that would soon be forever etched into Africa's memory, Meditteranean stirred from her restless slumber.

"Africa..." She murmured.

"Right here." Africa replied.

"D-don't be afraid. D-don't worry for me. I-I'm not scared." Her voice broke, giving away the lie as she struggled to continue. "I love you Africa." She managed.

Tears fell. "Don't go..." Africa begged. As a hospital ship she'd seen many ships die on her watch but her best friend...

Mediterranean smiled. "Don't be afraid." She repeated.

Africa half sobbed as she plucked up her courage.

"Let me go Africa. You have to let me go." Mediterranean rasped.

Africa held her tighter at this. "Never." She replied. "Don't leave me!" She repeated.

"Never..."

The hull against Africa suddenly felt very heavy as Mediterranean Mercy, the former Cristobal Colon, died at her friend's side.

Africa, not knowing what else to do, lowered her head and brushing her lips across the lifeless eyelids, she cried.


	3. A Museum but Still Big Mama

As the last tourist left her, Iowa leaned against the dock, sighing tiredly. It'd been a long day, directing people all around and trying to keep them from getting lost. Sometimes she wondered how Missouri did it, putting up with such a following. Well, she probably had worse anyway. Her youngest sister was the most famous battleship of all time. Iowa closed her eyes, trying to alleviate the throbbing pain in her head. No such luck. Canfield, a former crewman, stepped down the gankplank. "Another bowache?" He asked. She nodded. He sighed. "That's the third time this week, Iowa. Maybe we should bring someone in to look at you." He said. "It's not that bad." She replied, stifling a cough. She felt his hands press against her bow. "You're a bit warm." He said and pulled out his phone. "Oh please no." She whined. "Afraid?" He teased. She scoffed. "Never!" She retorted. "But I told you, I'm fine!" She shivered, unable to hide a coughing fit. "Mmm hmm. Yeah, I can see that." Canfield said sarcastically. She glared at him but used to her crankiness, he ignored her. She huffed crossly, and rested her head on the dock, waiting for the Ship's Doctor to arrive.

Dr. Banfield did 15 minutes later. "Let's just get this over with." Iowa sighed. She wasn't happy he was here but she knew that she wasn't alright and hoped he could tell her what was wrong. He pressed a stethoscope to her chest. "Breathe deep for me Iowa." He ordered. Iowa did as she was told. It wasn't that she disliked Doctors. She was subjected to hundreds of checkups during her time in the navy, she just got annoyed with them after a while. She shivered at the cold feel of the instrument against her hull. After a few minutes, Dr. Banfield had his diagnosis. "Nothing more than a common cold virus. Have her take it easy for a few days, get plenty of rest, she'll be fine." He reported. "Mmm, that's good to hear." Iowa murmured, the sneezed loudly. "Well, bless you!" Canfield exclaimed. "Ugh." Iowa grumbled. Canfield grimaced. "Uh Iowa, come here." He ordered. "I've got snot on my nose don't I?" She asked. "Yeah. Now hold still." He ordered. Using a tissue, he wiped the glob of green goo off her snout. She giggled. "Years ago, I would've just stuck my head underwater." She said. "Now you're pampered like a princess." Canfield finished. "DON'T let it go to your head missy." She rolled her eyes. "As if." She replied.

A bus pulled up. "That's right, the youth group." Iowa murmured. "It's okay to let them on. The cold virus I've got won't recognize their immune systems as compatible. It's only contagious to other ships." "But you need rest." Canfield growled. "I don't need to watch the kids to make sure they stay in line. That's your job." She retorted. "Thanks a lot." He grumbled and went to meet the students. "Alright file off one by one." Their chaperone ordered. Her name tag identified her as Sherri. Once lined up by the bus, Canfield faced them. "Alright, now all of you will be spending the night aboard the USS Iowa. I will take you to your bunks and you will stow your gear. There will be a few activities, a few songs, then its bedtime. In the morning, I'll take you all on a tour." They murmured their assent. "One more thing!" Canfield added before chattering could start. "I'm presuming you all still have the sight, correct?" He asked. They all nodded. "Sherri, do you?" He asked their chaperone. The woman shook her head sadly. "I lost it at age 19. I'm beginning to regret that." She replied. "I see. Well, not only is Iowa old, she is not feeling well at the moment so I want you all to be respectful of that. If she tells you to be quiet, you be quiet. Are we clear?" Canfield asked. They all nodded and Canfield led them up the gangway. Iowa's watchful gaze bore on each of them as they boarded, as if daring them to cause trouble. Several met her gaze and nodded respectfully to her before continuing on.

It was about an hour and a half before the group had completed their few evening activities and were sent to their bunks before being awoke at 07:00 tomorrow morning. Iowa was looking forward to actually getting some sleep. She rested her head down on the dock, her eyes closing. She was half asleep when she heard little feet shuffling along her deck. "I-Iowa..." A timid female voice asked. "Hmm, what?" Iowa grumbled. "Sorry to bother you but I..." The girl began. Iowa yawned and raised her head up. The girl standing on her deck looked to be in 5th grade, maybe younger. She was in her nightgown and holding a stuffed pink teddy bear. "Let me guess, nightmare?" Iowa asked. "How did you know?" The girl asked. "Because when I was your age, I had the same problem. It's nothing to be ashamed up. Everyone has bad dreams." Iowa assured her. "Well mine was really bad!" She whimpered. "Oh, and what was it about?" Iowa asked. "Aliens came in and killed everyone." She replied. "Aliens eh? Well let me tell you something about aliens. 2 years ago, aliens came in over Hawaii, and my little sister fought them off." Iowa said. "She did?" The girl asked. "She did." Iowa confirmed. "So if you dream about aliens again, just imagine a big bad Iowa-class battleship there to fight them off, alright." "Alright." The girl grinned, much happier. "What's your name kiddo?" Iowa asked. "Brianna." She replied. "Brianna, don't you think you should head back to bed now?" Iowa asked. "I can't go back to sleep now!" She whined. Iowa smiled. "Well, you're always welcome to stay out here." She replied. Brianna grinned, leaping down the gangplank. "Thanks Iowa!" She squealed happily. Iowa rested her head back down on the dock. "Just keep quiet alright?" She asked. "I do hope to get some sleep myself." "I will." Brianna promised, settling down against the battleship's hull. "Iowa?" She asked. "Yes?" The battleship asked. "You're really nice." Brianna replied. "Well I try to be." Iowa chuckled, settling down to sleep. "And Iowa?" Brianna asked. "Hmm?" "Thanks." Brianna grinned. "You're welcome kiddo." Iowa murmured sleepily. Brianna curled up next to her, her warmth soothing the young human and soon both found themselves fast asleep.

In the morning, Canfield couldn't find Brianna at her bunk. He left the ship in search for her, finding her laying across Iowa's bow, both ship and girl still fast asleep. He smiled and quietly walked over. "Brianna?" He murmured. "Hmm." She stirred. "It's 7:00. The others are waiting." Canfield murmured. "Oh!" She yawned and stretched, climbing off the still sleeping Iowa. "Quietly now, we don't want to wake her." Canfield ordered. She nodded and followed him back on board. "She let me stay with her." She said to Canfield. "Yes, she'll do that sometimes. She may be a museum now but she's still Big Mamma to all her little human kids." He chuckled. "Was she a mamma to you?" Brianna asked. "Mother, girlfriend, mistress, wife... She was everything to us sailors." Canfield replied. "Everything and so much more." He stroked the nearest bulkhead with affection.

The group had breakfast, then got dressed and showered. By 9:00 Iowa herself was wide awake. She still felt crappy but the night's rest had done her some good. "Alright group..." Iowa winced at the grating sound of her voice, clearing her throat before trying again. "Alright group, today you'll be taking a tour of the engineering spaces and the gun turrets. I advice you to be gentle for the engineering space, particularly the engine rooms are the equivalent of, how should I say it, sensitive parts. So DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING!" She growled. They agreed though a few of the older boys had a mischievous glint in their eyes that Iowa knew all too well. So it was no surprise to her when a few minutes later she felt the odd sensation of someone's hands up her turbine shaft. "Oy!" She hissed. "What did I tell you?" "That did not have the desired affect I was looking for." One of the boys grumbled. Iowa snorted. "If you're looking to seduce a girl, go pinch the butts of your own species but stay away from my privates!" She growled. They reluctantly agreed and there were no more issues.

Canfield led the group off the ship and onto the pier. "Now this is the part where I'll let you pet Iowa. I would advice you to treat her as you would one of your own pets. Do not stick your hands inside her mouth or her nose or any sensitive area on her face, understood?" He asked. They all agreed and one by one they stepped forward. Iowa, like most any ship handled by people, loved attention when she could get it and kids were by far her favorite. They knew all the right places to touch. Brianna was the last one to come forward. "Thank you Iowa, for last night. I really appreciate it." She said. "Ah shucks!" Iowa mumbled, ducking her head shyly. "You kids need so much attention nowadays." She laughed, giving the battleship a gentle scratch behind her ears. "After all these years, you're still the Big Mamma." She said. "Well someone's got to keep those rowdy boys in line." Iowa replied. "I heard that!" Canfield grumbled. Iowa ignored him.

The kids soon packed their stuff up, and got on the bus, prepared to leave. "I live not far from here, I walk by here every day on my way to school. I could come see you." Brianna said. Iowa smiled. "I'd like that." She said. "And don't let any bullies get you down and if they do, I'll sort them out for ya." She growled. Brianna laughed. "Thanks old girl." She replied, giving Iowa's nose one last pat before joining her classmates on the bus. Canfield stood beside Iowa as they drove away. "What?" Iowa asked him. "You, many would think ships could be their own mothers by the way you act." He replied. "And do you have a problem with that?" She asked. "No." He replied. "That's what I thought." She grunted. "Now, we have a few hours until the first tour group arrives and I suggest during that time, you take a nap." He ordered. "You're not my mother." She growled. "No, but I am responsible for your welfare and that makes me as good as your "mother". Now shut your bow, close your eyes, and rest, Iowa." He replied. She glared at him but yawning, did as she was told. "Hmm, I must be getting old." She murmured. "Kids didn't used to tire me out this much." He laughed. "Just rest Iowa, you'll feel better soon." He replied. Iowa never gave him a response. She was asleep before he'd finished uttering his sentence. He smiled fondly, resting a hand over her nose. "Sleep well, mother." He whispered and gave her a soft kiss before returning to work.


	4. A Split Soul

DECEMBER 5, 2009

It was still the middle of the night for those resting in Hawaii as the sun began to rise over Connecticut. Missouri, who never slept during the graveyard shift between midnight and 4 am, kept her gaze firmly on the sunken hulk 500 yards in front of her. "I won't let anything harm you Arizona, not anymore." She murmured, sensing the battleship could hear her.

It was then she felt a surge of pain, beginning near her chest and spreading to every inch of her body. She knew, somehow she knew her hull wasn't splitting but it sure did feel like it. She screamed and the sound woke just about every ship in the harbor. Bowfin was the first to spot the struggling battleship. Missouri by this point had rolled on her side, thrashing about. This caused the mooring lines to entangle her and she was in danger of being squeezed alive. "Someone fetch Arleigh now!" Bowfin cried. Arleigh came running in a second later. "Missouri, oh my what's wrong?" She asked. "I-I don't know." Missouri gasped out. "I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams." "Well you're sealed up tight I can tell you that." Arleigh said. "I know that." Missouri groaned. "But it feels like it." She struggled, the thick hawsers connecting her to the dock tightening their grip as they dug into the battleship's flesh. Arleigh cut them free. "You have to stop struggling." She growled. "What's happening to me?" Missouri wailed. "I can't-I can't even see you Arleigh! I see..." She broke off and screamed again. "What do you see Missouri?" Arleigh asked. "The port is unfamiliar to me but it's obviously the east coast, the sun's rising over the Atlantic. Much ceremony, must be a new ship in commission. No, not commission, christening." Missouri rasped. "And what is she being christened as?" Arleigh asked. "That's impossible though, I was built in Brooklyn, not Groton!" Missouri growled. "Of course..." Arleigh whispered. "The Virginia-class submarine is being named Missouri." "And what does that mean? Why would that cause me so much pain!" Missouri snarled. Arleigh was about to answer but another ship beat her to it. "Because you are suffering a split soul, my dear Mo." said an unfamiliar voice behind her. Arleigh whipped around to face another battleship though this one was older and her gray eyes sparkled with the light of the stars. "Arizona.' Arleigh gasped. Arizona touched her nose to the healer. "You're going to need your sight for this." She murmured as she temporarily cured Arleigh's blindness. "I-thank you Arizona..." the destroyer whispered. Arizona nuzzled her before turning her attention to the struggling Iowa-class battleship. "Missouri, do not fight it. You're only making it worse." She ordered. "Worse how?" Missouri groaned. "I don't see how it could be 'worse'." "It's worse because a split soul is a dangerous thing. It puts both ships in a precarious position. If you fight it, you'll suffer a heart attack and die. I can't let that happen." Arizona growled. "Will she die anyway?" Arleigh asked. "Some survive a split soul and some do not. It depends on how much strength and will she has." Arizona replied. "She's suffering from stage 2 Propellerous, I don't think she has that much strength." Arleigh said. "I see." Arizona sighed, nudging Missouri's four leopard spotted props gently. The battleship quivered under her touch. "Arizona..." Missouri rasped. "I'm here Missouri." Arizona replied. "Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone." Missouri whimpered. "I know. I know. I came to help you and that is what I'll do." Arizona said. "No, I mean..." "I know what you meant Missouri." Arizona replied softly. "All these years you've watched over me, guarded me, protected me. Now let me return the favor." She kissed the other battleship atop her head. Missouri's silver eyes closed as they briefly flickered bright blue, most likely the original color of the new Missouri's eyes. She sighed tiredly. "Rest now, the hard part is over now all you have to do is wait." Arizona whispered. Missouri's breathing evened out and she fell asleep. Arleigh checked her vitals. "Still way outside normal but at least they're not in free fall anymore." She reported. Arizona nodded. "By relaxing Missouri may not have only saved herself, but saved that submarine as well. If she had perished in the middle of this, her soul might've never transferred completely to the sub and half would be trapped in the stars, the other half on earth, never to be reunited. "Has this happened?" Arleigh asked. "Fortunately not. Ancients can and will intervene in times like these to ensure the soul is seen properly to its new home." Arizona replied. "And that's why you're here?" The healer said. "Partly, any Ancient could've come down. Missouri is much loved by many in our ranks. I know Leah really wanted to see her." "We all miss her. She could've been a great US warship if she'd lived." Arleigh sighed. "She's found ways to serve her country even now." Arizona murmured. "She's a brave soul, I respect her greatly." Arizona sighed. "But no, I came here because I owe Missouri. I owe her so much." "She wanted to do it. You don't owe her anything." Arleigh said. "She's done so much for me. The least I can do is do something for her." Arizona whispered. "If only things had been different. I would've loved to have known her in life." She nuzzled the sleeping battleship gently. "Rest well, Missouri. I'm watching over you." She whispered.

Arizona's healing properties wore off and Arleigh went blind again. "Son of a..." the healer swore as she ran into the dock. "Be more careful Arleigh!" Bowfin called. "Arizona, could I ask you something?" Arleigh said. "You want to know if there's some herb or something that could cure your condition." Arizona sighed, turning to her. Arleigh nodded. "To be honest I don't know. I'm not a healer, I merely use the power of the stars to do the things I do, like all Ancients. I know humans have been working on different surgeries that sometimes restore sight but those are not full proof. No one can explain why some work and some don't." "I see. So there's no hope then?" The destroyer sighed. "There's always hope Arleigh. New technologies emerge every day and with them, the potential to do something great." Arizona leaned down and gently lifted Arleigh's head so the destroyer's blind eyes could meet hers. Briefly, she allowed Arleigh her sight so she could see her own eyes. "There is always hope." "You have such beautiful eyes Arizona." She whispered. "Not half as beautiful as yours. Mist or no mist." Arizona replied. Arleigh blushed and ducked her head shyly. Arizona licked her cheek. "Go and get some rest. I will keep an eye on Missouri." She said. "Let me know if there's any change." Arleigh ordered. Arizona nodded and the healer returned to her berth.

In the morning it was needless to say the first people to arrive on Ford Island got the shock of their life when they saw not one but two battleships side by side. Missouri was still lying on her side, her cut mooring lines still wrapped around her hull. Arizona was curled up next to her, her head resting over the battleship's flank. Her gray eyes were closed as she relaxed in the morning son. "You, wake up this instant!" A man roared at her. Arizona yawned and raised her head. "Hmm?" She murmured, gazing up at him. The man had a gun out. This made Arizona obey quite quickly. If she was killed a second time, it would destroy her soul. She rose up to her full height. "What do you want?" She growled. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" The man hissed. "I'm here because last night, Missouri's soul was split in two as the submarine Missouri was born in Groton. She needed my help." Arizona replied calmly. "How could she need your help?" The man hissed. Arizona rolled her eyes. "I'm an Ancient ya flipping sugar bear, what do you think?!" She growled. "No idea what that means." The man said. "Then research your 1940s vocabulary, Bar Steward!" She hissed, baring her teeth. The man raised his gun again but Missouri began to stir between them. "Arizona, stand down." She murmured sleepily. "She's alright." She added to the man. "If you say so Missouri." He replied and backed off though still eyed Arizona with some wariness.

"It's good to see you awake." Arizona said. Missouri yawned. "Best sleep I've had in years." She said. "You push yourself too hard." Arizona pouted. "It's worth it to see you safe." Missouri replied. Arizona chuckled. "Self sacrificing flipper." She said. Missouri laughed. "It's been a long time since I've heard that!" She said. Arizona grinned. "You liked it didn't you. Admit it." She said. "Of course I did. I've missed those days." Missouri sighed. She tried to right herself but she was still tangled in the thick hawsers. "Hold still." Arizona ordered and began to unravel them from Missouri's hull. More than once the battleship hissed in pain as they were pried from the deep gouges they made on her hull. "You'll need to have Arleigh take a look at those. They could quickly become infected." Arizona said. Missouri nodded. "I will." She promised. Arizona helped the bigger battleship upright and Missouri shifted her weight to the dock. Arizona pressed against her. "You take it easy for the next few weeks. You won't be as strong as you normally are. Your body needs time to adjust." She said. Missouri nodded. "I still need to keep an eye on you." She said. "I'm perfectly capable of handling myself for the time being. For right now, I'm going to be watching you." Arizona replied. Missouri rolled her eyes, which appeared to be a shade darker than they used to be, more blue than silver. "How can I refuse." She said. Arizona nuzzled her, for once pleased with the Iowa-class' obedient attitude. She licked her cheek. "That's more like it." She said.


	5. A Stout Old Ship: Part 1

12 year old Arthur Bridge was quite pleased with himself. He'd given his nanny the slip and now eagerly observed the ships tied up at the dock. There were a mix of brigantines and sloops and each he thought was prettier than the last. Some were friendly, some were not and Arthur had to dodge several well aimed bites at his rear end by grumpy ships.

The sounds of men shouting got his attention and the young lad was racing towards them. What he saw was at least a dozen men all holding onto thick mooring lines that were attached to a brig. Though she was old, silver gracing her muzzle and she looked like a floating wreck with her decks rotting away, she still fought like a demon. She reared up at the men, lashing out with her teeth and rigging. Her silver eyes blazed with fear and anger. Apparently she'd somehow slipped her muzzle and was caught trying to escape. At least two of the men had whips which they used in stunning ferocity against her flanks. As the whip fell against her hull with a loud crack she shrieked and lunged forward, her head slamming against the dock. The men struggled to tie her down again.

Stunned at such cruelty, Arthur intervened. "Stop, stop it!" He cried. "What are you doing here young lad?!" One snapped. Arthur ignored his question and said "Can't you see she's afraid?" "As well she should be. She's done wrong and she knows it." The man snapped. "But she's still fighting you." Arthur pointed out. "Why would she fight you if she's afraid of you?" "How should I know? I'm just a dockhandler, not a psychologist." "Well I think she's frightened for you, not of you." Arthur said. "I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case though I doubt this bitch cares for anyone." Another man said. "I did care! I always did!" The ship cried. "Let me go please. Let me go and leave me. If you knew what was good for you you'd leave me alone!" "Our orders are to make sure you stay put." The first man snapped. "Now do as your told and stay put!" She whimpered and let them tie her off.

Once they had left, she glared at the boy in front of her. "I thought I told you..." "To leave, yeah I'm not going to do that miss." Arthur sniffed. She growled but the sound was muffled, as was her speech, by the muzzle. "If I remove this may I stay?" He asked. The brig cocked an eyebrow and her eyes rolled but she sighed in resignation. Being very gentle, he removed the contraption. Working her jaws back and forth, the brig then fixed her gaze on him. "Thanks lad. That feels much better." She said. "I'm sure it does. What's a pretty thing like you doing on the auction block?" He asked. Much to his surprise, the brig started sobbing. "Did I say something, I'm sorry I didn't mean..." He began. "No you're fine. It's just, no one has ever called me pretty." She said with a small sad smile. "You're more than pretty." Arthur said. "A blind man could see that." She ducked her head. "Don't toy with me, boy." She said. "I'm not! I'm serious, you are." He insisted. "I-I can't believe that." She whimpered. "Come on now," he looked at the name carved into her hull. "Mary. You are so beautiful. You really are." She buried her prow into his chest, her bowsprit resting on his shoulder. His fingers felt the grooves in her hull. The sliver eyes closed and a shaky, throaty purr escaped her. Then she backed off suddenly, her eyes wide. "What's wrong?" Arthur asked her. "I-I shouldn't. I shouldn't be doing this." She replied. "I can't be close to anyone. Please don't tempt me." "Why can't you? There's nothing wrong with liking a person is there?" Arthur asked. "There is for me!" She wailed. "I-I just don't want you or anyone else to get hurt. Bad things happen to those I love." "I'm not afraid. I come from a seafaring family who's time honored tradition is to die at sea. If I fall to some curse so be it." Arthur sniffed. "And what family do you come from lad may I ask?" Mary said. "Briggs." Arthur replied.

Instantly the brig stiffened and backed away. "No, no not another one!" She wailed. "No, I won't! I won't let another fall to my hand, no!" Surprised at her reaction, Arthur approached her. "Calm down!" He said. "Do you know something about my family?" "More than you know." She replied sadly. She rested her head on the dock, tears falling freely from her silver eyes. Arthur knelt down and stroked her nose. He straightened up though when he heard the shouts of his nanny and she didn't sound happy. "I better go but I'll be back soon. I promise." He said. "Don't come back. If you value your life, don't." She said. "Is that a threat?" He asked her. "A promise." She replied brokenly. "I'm still coming back. As I said, I'm not afraid." Then before she could react he gave her a quick kiss before bounding away. Mary watched him go, liking the youth despite herself. "Don't fall for him Mary." She scolded herself. "You know what will happen if you do!" But some feelings were beyond her control.


	6. A Stout Old Ship: Part 2

True to his word, Arthur returned to the docks the next day. This time he'd gotten permission. As long as he was home by sunset his nanny told him he could go wherever he wanted. After all, it was a Saturday. Racing down the docks in excitement he saw Mary curled up fast asleep at her dock. Beside her was an old Dutch galleon with green eyes. "Poor thing has hardly slept a wink since she got here." She explained to Arthur. "I finally convinced her to get some rest." "And you are?" He asked. "Shadow. HMS Long Shadow more properly but I hate formal titles." She sniffed. "Alright, Shadow it is then. I'm Arthur Briggs but call me Arthur, not Artie though please. I hate that!" He said. She chuckled. "Yes, I had a feeling I'd meet you one day. I knew your father a while back. Kind man. You were the first person he spoke of." She said. "Really? When was this?" He asked. "1872." Shadow replied. "Yes, I know it was the year he died. Though I don't know the full details mind you, I could make guesses on what happened." "And what do you think killed my dad?" Arthur asked. "The logical explanation would be the cargo." Shadow replied. "It's possible the humid climate allowed some of the vapors to escape, turning the ship into a floating bomb. Briggs must've panicked and ordered the hatch covers opened. Briggs and the crew went to the long boat and tied off as they waited for the fumes to dissipate but the line connecting him to his ship must've snapped and set them adrift, leaving them to die at sea." "That does seem the most likely." Arthur said. "But why didn't the ship herself take control and turn back for them?" "Control is a tricky thing lad, it takes years to master and some ships never learn how. Unfortunately for Celeste, she was one of them." Shadow replied. "So she was helpless then." Arthur murmured. "Yes." Shadow sighed. "She was never the same after that, poor thing." Mary began to stir. "I best be off. Though I care for Mary a great deal she often blames me for her troubles and perhaps she is right to do so." Shadow sighed. "Must you leave?" Arthur asked. For some reason he was enchanted by this new ship. Shadow paused and looked back at him. "Lad, I want you to listen to me very carefully. If there's one ship you don't ever, _ever_ want to crew, it's me! Because if you do, it means you're dead!" She growled and with that she raced away, vanishing into the mist that had so suddenly appeared over the bay.

Not a second later Mary opened her eyes. "Mmm, was someone here?" She asked. "I thought I heard you talking to someone Arthur." "A galleon was yes but she left." Arthur replied. "Good because I'd give her a good ol' bite to the stern and make her leave otherwise." Mary snarled. "What do you have against Shadow, Mary? She seems like a kind ship." Arthur asked. "Kind my barnacle encrusted keel!" Mary snarled. "She's the reason my first captain died aboard me! She's the reason I collided with another ship in the English Channel and sank it! She's the reason I ran aground off Nova Scotia and was resold as a wreck! And-and she's the reason I left your father to die!" Arthur's jaw dropped. This ship wasn't... she couldn't be! "Mary Celeste." He whispered. "Who the fuck do you think I was?!" She snapped. Arthur winced at her harsh language but didn't rebuke her. It seemed warranted he figured. "I could've done something to save him. To save all of them. But I didn't. I could've avoided those rocks off Nova Scotia. I could've avoided that other ship in the English Channel. I could've turned around and saved my captain and my crew. It's my fault, I let them die!" She sobbed.

Distraught, the brig rolled on her side, her whole body shaking from the stress of her emotions. Kneeling down beside her, Arthur stroked her bow. "It's not your fault." He whispered to her. "How can you not hate me? Your own father was lost at sea because of me!" She wailed. "He was lost at sea because of a simple error. The line snapped. That was neither his fault, nor yours." Arthur replied sternly. She gazed up at him. "You're not even mad at me?" She whispered. "How can I be mad at you? I don't blame you Mary and I never will." He replied. "But so many accidents. You come from a sailing family Arthur you tell me why so many die?" She growled. "Accidents. All ships have their share of deaths. It's part of the seafaring life." He replied. "I know that maybe one day I too will suffer such a fate but I'm not afraid, it's to be expected." She sighed. "You are a kind man Arthur, more than I deserve." She said. "No, you just don't get the love you deserve." He replied. She snorted. "I deserve nothing." She said. "Or what you think you deserve." He added thoughtfully. "You're better than you think. One of those workers said you didn't care but I don't think that's true. If you didn't, would you be in this position right now?" He said. Slowly, she shook her head. "You do care Mary. You have a kind heart and that is what truly matters. I know they say that actions speak louder than words but I don't believe you at fault. Your actions never caused anything." By this point, Mary had curled up into a tight ball and was crying her eyes out but these weren't tears of sadness. "Arthur may the Ancients bless you for you kind soul!" She cried as she pulled him tight to her side. He wrapped his arms around her bow as best her could. "Shh, shh. I'm here for you Mary. As long as I'm alive I'll be here for you."

The years pasted and Arthur was 17 before he knew it. He signed onto his first ship, the USS Indiana, still under construction at the Philadelphia shipyard. By this point, Mary had changed hands several times before finally being fitted out and made ready to sail once more. She looked grand though her eyes remained as dark and sad as ever. She brightened a bit upon seeing Arthur though. "Mary, you look as beautiful as ever." He said. "You always say that." She giggled, blushing dark red. "I say it because its true and you're too stubborn to believe it, pretty girl." He said. She ducked her head and laughing, he stroked her bow. She purred softly. "Arthur, there's something I have to tell you." She said. "Yes, Mary?" He asked. "I- well this voyage is a one way trip. A scam is being set up. Whatever you read about my cargo manifest it isn't true. The ale is actually water, the silverware is cheep dog collars and well I think you get the picture. I'm going to be sunk off Haiti. I want you to know this because when the inquiry comes, I want you to tell the courts the truth! Come forward as a witness and tell them what really happened. If I'm going down, I'm taking some of the bastards with me!" She hissed. "I-I will." Arthur stammered. "Isn't there some way out of this?" He asked. She shook her head. "It's impossible." She sighed. "I'm sorry Arthur. I will miss you. You-you've provided me with the little happiness I've ever been shown in life and for that I am grateful. Perhaps the Ancients will be more forgiving than this world has been." Arthur wrapped his arms around her bow. "Don't go." He begged her. She nuzzled him. "I have to." She replied. "I've caused enough harm on this earth, enough pain. Let me go Arthur, just let me go..." Sniffling like a 6 year old, Arthur pulled back. "You better come back and haunt me!" He growled. "Because I love you, you crazy old bitch!" Mary tipped her head back and laughed. A musical sound and one that was rarely heard from a ship as sad as her. "You always know how to cheer me up. Of course I'll come back to see you, lad. I love you too." She nuzzled the top of his head briefly, one of the few ways a ship can show love, and cast off. The last glimpse he had of her was her stern disappearing into the fog.

A few weeks later he heard the report that Mary Celeste had been sunk in a storm off Haiti. He knew it was false and immediately went to the court of inquiry where he testified as a witness. He told them everything that Mary had told him and while some believed him, others did not but nevertheless, all but one man were convinced. The captain and first mate later died mysteriously of illness a few months later. All the companies involved in the conspiracy went bankrupt. "And good riddance too." Shadow sniffed. Arthur and her were at the pier that Mary herself had sailed from a few months prior. "Did you do it?" Arthur asked her. "I wish. I certainly would've if I was given the chance. Dirty little bastards deserved it if you ask me." She turned her bow towards the sea. "I should be going. You'll have a visitor soon. It's best I not linger." With that she raced off into the mist.

It was only a few hours later that a pretty brig appeared from the fog. She looked different though, her paintwork gleaming as though she was brand new. Her brass glinting in the sun and her pristine white sails flapping in the wind. Her silver eyes shown like two mountain pools in the moonlight and her hull sparkled with the light of the stars. "Mary..." Arthur whispered. If she was beautiful in life, Mary Celeste was 10 times more beautiful in death. She looked like Aphrodite herself. Racing over, Arthur flung himself at her bow. Chuckling, Mary let him tackle her and rolled on her side with him on top her. She held him close. "I knew you'd come back, I knew it!" He cried. "You know I cannot stay long." She murmured. He nodded. "I never did thank you." He said. "Thank me, for what?" She snorted. "For showing me the whole story. I must admit I did blame you. For a long time I did but after seeing how sorry you were, how pained over the whole thing I just didn't have it in me to hold a grudge. How could I when you were so torn up over it." "You were right about me, Arthur. I do care, I always have. If I didn't, would I feel the pain? Pain is good for it shows you that you are not without feeling. You showed me there was good in me and for that, I thank you." She said. He stroked her bow. "It was my pleasure." He replied. "I must go now but I will come back. Always keep one eye on the sea for you never know when I'll return." She said. "I look forward to it. I love you Mary Celeste!" He cried. "And I love you Arthur Briggs." She replied, embracing him. And then she was gone, back to the stars. Raising his head skyward Arthur murmured "You are at peace now Mary, rest well."

Years later he would've sworn, even on his deathbed, that he heard her reply "I shall my dear Arthur, thank you."


	7. A Third Life

LEITH SCOTLAND 1992

Whenever she spoke English, MV Polar Star still held a trace of her native Norwegian accent. She would often switch to that language in the middle of a conversation, causing most ships to just stare at her. The transition from Norway to the UK was difficult but she was managing. Better than most ships her type anyway. For some reason it felt right to her, being an English flagged ship. As though she belonged to England.

Mooring lines creaked as she shifted her weight towards the open sea, stretching them as far as they could go. She longed for the open water. Sitting in port never suited her. She liked her freedom, the sheer wildness the ocean could give her. Any place where there could be no human interference, just absolute, remote wild. She felt drawn to it. Drawn like a moth to the flame. Up from her larynx and out her throat came a grown of longing, resonating on her vocal chords. It was a deep, primal sounding whine but a genuine one. It caused another icebreaker, her name identifying her as CCGC Audmensen, to look up. Her deep amber eyes meeting Polar Star's ice blues.

"Ah, you long for the open sea don't you Polaris." She said.

Polar Star winced. "Don't call me that." She growled, even though it felt right. She hated that.

"Polaris is the Polar Star. It is a way of simplifying things." She answered, her own Canadian accent thick with her English. "You are Norwegian, yes?"

"Yes." Polar Star replied, barely restraining herself from adding _"it's none of your business"_

"You are English now. Does that bother you?" Audmensen asked.

"Yes." Polar Star replied.

"But not in the way one would think." the other icebreaker said knowingly.

Polar Star stiffened. "How would you know?" She growled.

"I come from the same stock as you." Audmensen replied, her tone of voice changing. It had grown deeper, older, wiser somehow. As if she was a ship beyond her years. Polar Star's knowledge of rebirth through the stars told her that was likely the case.

A sense of connection welled up from somewhere deep within her. She felt drawn to this other ship, as though they were sisters somehow. _"No."_ She corrected herself. _"Brothers."_ But how she knew this was beyond her. Out loud she asked "And what 'stock' would that be?"

"You know." Audmensen replied. Her eyes gathered a far away look to them, the same look that Polar Star imagined she herself often had when staring out to sea. "Windswept plains. Jagged peaks. Vivid colors of green, colbolt blue, tinged red and orange by striking sunsets. And above all, silence. Silence broken only by the crackle of whole chunks of ice breaking and then reforming again."

Polar Star felt herself imagining the scene, quite vividly too. As though she'd lived it herself. Scenes, fragments of memories if they were that, began to work their way behind her eyes. Chunks of fierce ice as it gouged into her hull, screams of the men inside her as she was at its mercy, rolling to one side then the other. Unimaginable agony as she was ripped apart alive. And a sense of wonder, unyielding wonder, at the power, the beauty of this far away landscape. One of the last frontiers the earth had to offer.

Audmensen's voice interrupted her memories. "You have been preparing for this moment, for a very long time." She said. "The Polar Star was always destined to become something greater. Polar Star, Polaris, rise to welcome Endurance."

Polar Star gasped as the icy breeze hit her. A sense of weightlessness overcame her, A glimpse of that white untouched landscape, tantalizingly close, then nothing but darkness.

...

Polar Star's dreams were vivid, yet fragmented. As though her mind was struggling to piece itself back together. Somewhere in the deep recesses of it all she knew what was going on, that she was becoming a new ship in spirit as well as body. She dreamed of a black barquentine, of a man with piercing blue eyes and a gentle yet demanding voice, and of that white landscape. Endless white in every direction. Each time she saw it she tried to approach, and each time she did it only seemed to get further away. Her sense of time faded away and she floated, weightless, between worlds. Waiting, without even knowing she was waiting, for her transformation to complete itself.

Eventually her senses returned. Touch came back first and she was aware she was resting against a dock somewhere. She remembered being docked in Liverpool, when? She wasn't sure how long she'd been out. Days, weeks, months even? _"Oh what an embarrassment I must be, in a coma my first time under a new flag."_ She thought.

Hearing returned next and she became aware of two ships next to her on her seaward side.

"She's so still. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything! I've killed her!" wailed a hysteric voice.

A second, more calm voice, interjected. "She's alive Audmensen, listen to her heartbeat. So strong, reassuring. She has a strong spirit within her now. Endurance is not one to give up from a fight."

 _'Endurance'..._ Even the name felt right somehow. Piece by piece, Polar Star began to recall those final moments before she lost consciousness. The last thing Audmensen had said to her began to make sense now.

 _"The Polar Star was always destined to become something greater... Rise to welcome Endurance."_

So she was Endurance then. Polar Star, her old name. It held some meaning to her still, for it rooted her to this life. The memories of her two previous lives threatened to surface and Endurance firmly held them back. She'd lived through them once, she saw no reason to live through them again. Though that small part of her, the part that would always be Polar Star in this life, grew in curiosity. If she was to live this life, she would have to see.

The memories flooded through. Her previous life was like this one, an icebreaker. Decommissioned and scrapped a mere few years back. The life before that, her first and most notorious. That fated expedition. Endurance knew that white landscape all too well. Beautiful Antarctica could be, yes. But deadly! The place was like a Siren's song, a death trap behind its seemingly lovely innocence. The memories of that time threatened to overwhelm her and Endurance whimpered.

"Polar Star? Polar Star can you hear me?"

Endurance felt Audmensen's nose nudge her shoulder. She wasn't sure she could answer, not without losing her focus. The retelling complete the memories retreated back into the deep recesses of her mind where they were locked away, hopefully for as long as she lived this life. Slowly she reviewed the memories Polar Star had left her. But these ones she didn't lock away. It had been woven through the stars themselves. Polar Star was her and she was Polar Star. The two ships were one and the same.

Gathering her wits about her, the polar explorer, took in a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves and shivering body. Slowly letting it out, she did this several more times. Then, calmly opened her ice blue eyes.


	8. Allies: The Secret Mission

NORFOLK VIRGINIA FEBRUARY 18, 1862

A thin sliver of moonlight shown on the lonely harbor. It reflected off the water, revealing the unusual metallic shape of an ironclad. Monitor kept her emerald green eyes fixed on the water as she sat on her side of the Potomac. She sat there, waiting for something or someone.

Hearing the telltale splash of another ironclad she lifted her eyes and growled "Alright Merri, I know you're there. Come on out!" A pair of ice blue eyes gleamed in the darkness as Virginia, the former Merrimack, emerged from the shadows. Their gazes met.

"Monitor." Virginia greeted cordially. The hatred in her eyes was clear but she held a hint of respect for her northern enemy. Monitor dipped her head politely. "Virginia." She said. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Well what choice did I have?" Virginia growled. Sighing, the Confederate ship asked "What is this "common cause" you say we share? We are nothing alike. We fight for two different reasons and for two different ideals." Monitor shrugged. "Perhaps, but you are forgetting the common cause we both share, that we've always shared. The cause of abolishing the Code of Honor."

Virginia nodded. "Yes, that is true. I believe just as much in Project Sigma as you." She said, careful to avoid the word abolition. It was a sensitive subject for her, especially in these times. Monitor looked at her former fleetmate, now her enemy.

Virginia seemed to read Monitor's mind for she sighed and said "And now I'm guessing you want me to join you in this ridiculous campaign to take our case to the courts?" "I was hoping you'd help me. Two bows are better than one they say." Monitor said. Virginia growled. "Do not think for an instant that I am your friend." She said. "I could kill you in a heartbeat but for this at least, I shall be your unwilling partner in crime."

Monitor smiled for the first time that night. "The hearing will take place in DC. Meet me on the northern bank of the Potomac, across from Mt. Vernon." She ordered. Virginia nodded. "Understood." She said.

Once Monitor had left, Virginia raised her head to the stars where her ancestors lie. "Please, help me do the right thing." She begged. "Help me do what's best for my country."

In the morning, Virginia met Monitor on the north bank. "Alright." She said. "What is our part in this court case?" "We're going to testify." Monitor answered. Virginia growled "You should've told me that. You know there's a reason why my country seceded. You northerners think you are in charge of everything. You can make us do things without asking our permission first. Why, you're no better than Britain!"

Monitor snarled "I do not want to argue with you right now! If you do not want to testify that is fine with me!" Virginia sighed, getting control of her temper for the time being. "Alright, I'll do it. You should've asked me though." She said. "I know, I should've." Monitor agreed. "Just like a northerner to admit her mistakes after the fact and pretend she's sorry." Virginia muttered, her eyes on the North's capital. Monitor growled but decided to let it slide. If Virginia wanted to be prejudiced that was her problem.

Monitor was called up first. HMS Victory was there as the defendant. She question Monitor heavily, craftily trying to twist Monitor's answers into something favorable. Monitor did her best to avoid that.

Virginia was next. "She'll try to get you to say something that'll work for her. Don't let her get to ya. It's what she want's." Monitor whispered as she passed Virginia. "Thanks for the tip Yank." Virginia muttered, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face. "You're welcome." Monitor murmured and left the courtroom.

Virginia rejoined her at the river a few hours later. "Well?" Monitor asked. Virginia growled "That Victory is more of a snob than I thought. With the likes of her in their navy, I'm not surprised we proclaimed independence from the British." Monitor smiled. "And, what snobs in my navy do you think made you secede?" She asked. Virginia opened her mouth to answer but no sound came out and she closed it, looking away.

"I won't name names." She replied. Monitor chuckled to herself, taking that as a "I don't know but I'm too proud to admit it" type of answer. "Mmm, hmm. That's what I thought." She said. Virginia glared daggers at her. "Come on." Monitor laughed. "I better take you back to Charleston." She said.

Traveling down the coastline to the Carolina's, Virginia thought about all that had been said. Monitor, for a Yank, was okay but she was still a Yank and Virginia's desire to blow her out of the water burned brighter than ever.

At last they reached the harbor entrance at Charleston South Carolina. "Alright, you're free to go." Monitor said. Virginia started to sail in but paused and looked back at the Union flagship.

"Monitor," She said. "Just because I helped you this once doesn't mean I'll do so again." Monitor nodded. "I understand." She said quietly. "I am not your friend. I am your enemy and I will blow you out of the water in a heartbeat the next time we meet." Virginia growled.

"Name the time and place and I'll be there." Monitor said with an easy smile. "Hampton Roads, March 9." Virginia answered. "You better be there." She added with a low growl. "Or I'll take my anger out on the city." "Oh don't you worry, I will be." Monitor laughed. She edged closer, circling around her Confederate counterpart. "Just remember, my turret rotates." And with that she was gone, racing off to the north where her fleet awaited her.


	9. Andenes' Tale: Mistake and Redemption

Pol paced back and forth anxiously waiting for her mentor and commander to return. A day earlier, NoCGV Andenes (W322) had sailed out of Oslow on a mission. Her orders, stop a conservation vessel carrying a wanted fugitive and either sink her, or take her under tow. Whichever suited.

Andenes had promised she'd call in every hour but it'd been close to 3 now and Pol had yet to hear a word from her. She was beginning to worry. Had something happened to her?

She got her answer soon enough when Andenes sailed into Oslow with a pronounced limp. A blood trail was left in her wake from a serious wound on her port side on her weakest point.

"ANDENES!" Pol cried, rushing forward.

Andenes, eyes sunken into her face and lips bloodied, gazed up at her apprentice. She leaned gratefully against Pol's offered side.

"What happened?!" Pol demanded.

"R-rammed." Andenes rasped. "That conservation ship, rammed me..." Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell unconscious.

"Andenes? Andenes?!" Pol cried, nudging her mentor repeatedly to rouse her. All to no avail.

Andenes was sent to the medical berths and Pol was forced to wait outside, dredging the harbor as she frantically paced back and forth. She was scheduled to take the evening patrol that night but managed to get Senja to take it for her. Andenes' estranged sister was quite happy to put more distance between them.

It was a good 6 or 7 hours before a hospital ship emerged, granting Pol permission to see Andenes.

Pol's mentor looked awful. Gauze and bandages were wrapped underneath a brace that went around her entire midsection. Probably meant to support her broken ribs. A pair of IV's dripped a sugar-water solution and a blood transfusion respectively. Her eyes were closed, breathing rapid and shallow and a breathing mask covered her mouth to help her.

Anger rose up within Pol. A morbid thought to be sure, but she hoped the ship who did this was in a lot worse condition. "I'm never leaving you again." She whispered and she lowered her head to nuzzle the other ships near still flank.

...

To Andenes it was all fog but that fog gradually began to clear. As it did she became aware of a sharp pain in her side. _"Broken ribs."_ She thought with a grimace. She became increasingly aware of a presence beside her and a familiar scent filled her nostrils as she breathed in deep, feeling the weight of a breathing mask on her face.

She shifted a bit to let her apprentice know she was awake.

"Andenes." The relief in Pol's voice was instantly recognizable but so was the exhaustion.

Cracking an eye open, Andenes regarded her apprentice, concern in her gaze. Pol merely shrugged it off. She hadn't slept a wink since Andenes first arrived here 3 days ago, true. But that hardly mattered. In that time Andenes had been in a critical condition. She was only just now improving.

Pol brushed her lips over the top of Andenes' head and Andenes leaned into it with a purr.

"You had me worried." There was no note of accusation or anger in Pol's tone, merely concern.

Andenes wished she could speak but the damn breathing mask wouldn't let her. It was becoming quite uncomfortable too. Reaching up with a wire, the big ship tried to pull it off but a gentle touch stopped her.

"No, Andenes." Pol said gently, as though she was telling off an inexperienced cadet. "You need that. You can't breathe well on your own right now."

Andenes gave one whine of protest but gave no other resistance. She knew her apprentice was right. Now that she was awake she fixed Pol with a stern, motherly look. _"Rest."_ Her look said. She needn't even try to use words. Pol knew exactly what she was trying to say.

Sighing, the exhausted icebreaker gave in and curling up at her mentor's side she went right to sleep. Andenes rested her head over her as she always did and she could feel Pol's tense muscles relax for the first time in three days.

Andenes had time to think now. And she thought carefully about the events that had transpired to bring her here. She knew Forever's rudder was jammed thanks to a prop fouler she'd dropped earlier. It'd missed the big ships' props but snagged her rudder instead, locking it in place. Forgetting this in the heat of the moment, Andenes made a critical error, expecting the other ship to turn away as she'd done previously. Too late she remembered why Forever couldn't turn and now Andenes had the broken ribs and cracked hull frame to show off for her mistake.

"Of all the things." She grumbled to herself. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!"

Not only did she encounter a collision with another ship, she did so in international waters where said ship had right of passage. She knew this but her captain refused to listen to her. Now she's was paying the price.

 _"I hope the bastard gets grilled."_ She thought nastily. _"I hope he gets demoted. If I ever see him again it'll be too soon. Serves the son of a bitch right for getting me into this mess!"_

 _..._

While Andenes was expected to make a full recovery, the Norwegian Navy wasn't so sure they were willing to cover the cost of her repairs. At just 12 years of age, Andenes was scheduled for the auction block. She would've been sent to the scrapyard for sure if Pol hadn't intervened. And if Andenes had ever seen a ship mad... Pol was beyond mad, she was like raving lunatic and Poseidon did she ever give those brass a grilling!

 _"I taught her that."_ Andenes thought smugly. And she most certainly did too. Andenes was notorious for her backdoor scoldings to young cadets. Every newcomer knows not to cross her if they do bad. _"Now they'll know not to cross Pol too."_ Andenes smirked to herself.

Seeing her apprentice approach her, the big ship straightened, ignoring how her ribs creaked their protest at her action. _"Shut up!"_ She thought to them.

"Well done. It appears I've taught you well though grilling the brass is a far cry from grilling cadets." Andenes said.

"Not so much. You just need to use stronger words is all. Then they're no different than anyone else." Pol replied.

Both ships shared a laugh at that.

"I'll admit you scared even me and I was no where near you." Andenes said.

Pol ducked her head, a bit sheepish. Andenes nuzzled her. "Nothing to be ashamed off. I'm impressed."

This gave Pol more confidence and she licked Andenes' muzzle, leaning into her gently as she was careful to mind her weight against the healing ship. "You gave me quite the scare you know." She murmured.

"Part of the job description. We all risk our lives for our country." Andenes said.

"Was that really what you were doing though?" Pol asked and Andenes sighed. For a long time Pol had been a "secret admirer" of Forever's human owners, Sea Shepherd. Andenes had always pretended she didn't know about it but when Whales Forever, heading straight for Oslow, mysteriously turned away just outside of Norway's territorial waters, Andenes had a feeling she knew why. Pol had tipped her off. Before, Andenes would've just let it slide but this time something had to be done. Though she understood and sympathized even with her apprentice, she was required to deliver a sentence anyway. No one said how light or hard that sentence had to be though.

"Of course I was." Andenes replied. "Pol, recent events have made me take a new perspective on things. I would've been killed and if I was, the only ship with a rank high enough to take command would be Senja and she's no fit for it. As my apprentice, you should be next in line so I'm giving you a promotion to 1st lieutenant."

Pol's eyes brightened considerably. That was a double promotion, something that one did not expect to get unless they died.

Andenes however, wasn't finished. "However, there is a catch. I'm also sentencing you to 1 week community service for violation of communication and intel protocols."

Pol's eyes widened as she realized just what her mentor meant. Andenes' eyes twinkled. "You thought I didn't know? I've always known, Pol. Even had to cover for you on multiple occasions. I know it seems unfair but by law I couldn't let this one slide without some sentence." She said.

Pol wasn't angry though, she grinned hugely. 1 week community service was the lightest sentence one could give in a situation like this. Andenes did what she did because she had to, not because she wanted to. Despite nearly being killed because, in part, of Pol's breach of protocol, she secretly agreed with her apprentice's choice in sides. Still though, she found it difficult to believe that the hippie hater would want anything to do with promoting a conservation group.

"You've been, helping me." She whispered.

Andenes winked. "I'm not the hippie hater everyone thinks I am. As long as no one gets hurt but also as long as something gets done about those poaching bastards, I'll help in whatever way I can and politely look the other way when incidents occur."

"But you were rammed! Thought not intentional, a ship with a thick ice-class hull like Whales Forever could've sunk you!" Pol cried.

"Aye, but that was neither her nor my fault. As much as Whales' crew would enjoy claiming they wrecked me, they like I, have to concede that one to my captain. Arrogant bastard." Andenes sniffed. It took all Pol's willpower to keep from laughing.

"So?" She asked. "Secret spy buddies?"

Andenes rolled her eyes, giving her apprentice a rare, genuine smile. "Secret spy buddies." She promised.

...

20 YEARS LATER, OPERATION GRINDSTOP 2014

Andenes made a slow turn to port almost lazily as she circled around for the umpteenth time outside the small inlet. Her job was to protect this area from any conservation vessel that happened inside. But what the Faroese and the Norwegian Navy didn't know was that said conservation vessels had already been tipped off about her whereabouts and her intentions if they dared enter this inlet, by Andenes herself. For 20 years, Andenes had been secretly feeding information about various topics to Sea Shepherd, ranging from warship locations and possible confrontations to poacher fleet whereabouts. No one, not even Sea Shepherd, knew who their long lasting Norwegian insider was. No one except Pol of course.

Her former apprentice had finally gotten what she wanted, and landed a job as the deputy of the Sea Shepherd fleet. MY Steve Irwin, formally, FPV Westra, was a good teacher though Pol had little to learn about handling bad guys. She'd trained for it after all. The only thing she needed to relearn was to aim to injure the ship, and not kill. Andenes was more proud of her than she was allowed to say. The navy didn't exactly smile upon fraternizing, especially between one of their warships and a group that was number 1 on their list of environmental nuisances. A badge which, Andenes thought with a smug grin, Pol and the others wore with honor. If they were annoying the government, they were doing their job. They weren't exactly sent out to be liked by people now were they.

Andenes grimaced as her ribs groaned as she made another turn. Her old injury had never really healed properly and it acted up from time to time, particularly when she maneuvering. The icy wind blowing off the bluffs did not help either. In fact her whole body often protested to the cold weather. At 32 years, she was beginning to feel her age as the symptoms of psoriatic arthritis began to take root. Her joints often flared up and she had to get a special ointment to keep the swelling down.

Her radio crackled on a private channel and Andenes tipped her head to one side in mild curiosity as she answered.

"This is MY Bob Barker, MY Bob Barker calling NoCVG Andenes, NoCVG Andenes. Over."

Andenes smiled to herself as she recognized her apprentices' voice, deeper than it used to be as her vocal chords adapted to her age and various hull designs. "Well this is a pleasant surprise Pol." She said.

"Wish it was as pleasant as the news I have to give you." Pol grumbled.

A raised brow was the only outward indication Andenes would give of her concern. "What's happened?" She asked. _"What can I do."_ Was the question that was left unasked, but understood all the same.

"Westra's been impounded in Scotland and that just leaves Brigitte to patrol the islands." Barker growled.

Andenes had met Brigitte before. The little trimaran was lucky to be alive to say the least. She grated on the old ships' nerves like no other. Andenes wondered just how Pol put up with her.

She sighed. "I don't know how much sway I have here but I'll do my best to get her free, Barker. I promise you that." She said.

"Understood. Same Ailis as always?" Pol asked and Andenes nodded. Though she didn't answer verbally, Pol got the message. Andenes had learned that whenever she was helping Sea Shepherd, she used her fake name to get such help through. This time, it was a transfer of USD $10,000 to Sea Shepherd's account in the Netherlands. It was only a 10th of the amount Westra needed but every little bit counted and if the flagship had only a month before she'd be seized and sold at auction, Andenes knew that time was of the essence.

"I owe you." Pol began.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's a donation." Andenes chuckled and she could practically hear Pol's silent protests.

Eventually she said "I still wish you'd consider joining us."

"Though I'm barely half your age Pol, a ship with psoriatic arthritis wouldn't be of much use for much other than tropical campaigns and from what I understand, you need every ship you can get against those Japs down south." Andenes replied.

Pol sighed. "I know but..." She broke off, uncertain but Andenes understood.

"I'm happy to help in what ways I can. After all, someone has to play man on the inside." She said.

"True enough." Pol said. "Can I at least tell Westra the truth. After all these years you deserve some recognition."

"Recognition would get me killed, Pol. You know this." The gray ship rolled her eyes. "You can spread the word all you want when I'm dead."

Pol snorted. "Stubborn old mule." She grumbled.

"And you're as insistent as ever." Andenes shot back. "I'm fine where I am Pol, don't worry."

Pol, knowing she wasn't going to win this one, admitted defeat. "Call me if you hear anything." She ordered.

Andenes, trying and failing to hide a smile, answered "If I hear anything about anything from the brass, you'll be the first to know." She promised.

"I'll let you know if I hear something about Westra first. And if there's extra money left over, we'll put it to good use. Come to think of it I'm running low on replacement engine parts." Pol mused.

Andenes resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Did you blow a main?" She asked.

"No but I came close." Pol replied.

Andenes could practically see her now, lips pursed and green eyes narrowed in thought as she always had when she lied. But the warship decided to let this one slide, once.

"Just be careful out there. Be safe, be good, ah what am I saying. You're a big girl now. You should know the drill by now." Andenes laughed.

"True, I should. But if I did I wouldn't make a living out of ramming ships now would I?" Pol replied and both laughed at this.

"Hey the same goes for you. Keep your head down, and if anybody asks..."

Andenes cut her off. "I didn't see anything."

"You didn't see anything." Pol confirmed. Andenes could practically hear the smile in her voice. "I love you."

There was silence for a moment before Andenes' reply came through, so quiet Pol could barely make out the words but she could still make them out. "I love you too."

Then the line went dead.

Andenes turned her gaze to the cliffs, eyes narrowing as she saw the familiar fleet of boats make its way down the narrow inland, the telltale splashes of a pilot whale herd seen just ahead of them. Stifling a growl, Andenes opened a private commlink as her crew took over her engine plant and made her turn in the direction of the action, prepping her to act as a protection for the whalers.

"Brigitte, there's a hunt about to begin now. In a small inlet just west of Sandavagur..."


	10. Andenes' Tale: Westra

Bridgett responded faster than Andenes had expected. The trimaran was on station within a matter of a few hours. By that time the Grind was already well underway. As she raced past the cruiser she gave her a warning snarl. Of course she didn't know Andenes was on her side but that fact wouldn't stop the cruiser from attacking if her crew ordered her to. She had to maintain secrecy. She had no choice. Reluctantly, she loaded blanks into her guns. Bridgett wouldn't know the difference but the scare factor was there. Andenes was well versed in Sea Shepherd's tactics so she knew this was a very effective means of getting people to do what you want without hurting them in the process.

Bridgett went to work at once, zipping around the poaching vessels like an annoying fly. Andenes could think of no other description that would fit her. She was annoying! She was lucky to escape her wrath so far. Andenes couldn't help but laugh as she watched several poachers get fed up with her antics and give up the Grind to chase her off. Bridgett, being much more nimble than them, merely veered out of their path and gave them the bird as she went by. This further served to aggravate them but Andenes knew that was exactly what Bridget wanted. Even if she was caught, captured, and taken to drydock, she would've achieved a tactical victory. She came to get the story of the Grind out to the world and even as Andenes watched that was taking place, courtesy of the camera's on board. Andenes, with her military background and training, had to appreciate various sorts of weapons and by far the most powerful was the camera. It was non-lethal in the physical sense, it maybe ruined some unlucky politician's career by capturing an embarrassing moment, but it never physically harmed or killed a person. Yet, it was the most effective weapon in Sea Shepherd's arsenal.

 _"Good job kid, keep it up."_ Andenes thought to herself.

Bridgett kept it up until night fall. She couldn't stop all the whales being killed but she managed to save a majority of the pod. On the way out she passed Andenes again.

"Several times there I thought you'd intervene." She said.

Andenes winced. _"So she noticed my inaction. I must be more careful from now on."_ She thought. Outloud she said "Several times I thought I'd have to. You were walking a pretty fine line there, missy."

"Who cares how fine that line is as long as you don't cross the line." Bridgett replied wisely and with a touch of smugness.

Andenes knew she was repeating words that Paul Watson had said but she kept quiet. Better to let her have her moment. "You have a point there." She conceded. "But know this. The second you step across that line, I will be forced to intervene do you understand that?"

"Aye, you're a warship with orders, protecting the islands and all that. Yeah, I get it." Bridgett sniffed. "See you around, um.."

"Andenes."

"See you around Andenes. I'll be very careful so you won't have to intervene." She said.

"Thanks kiddo. I don't like getting involved in things like this. It can get messy really quick." Andenes replied.

"I hear ya." The trimaran chuckled.

With a flick of her Australian ensign, she was off. Her powerful engines working up to 28 knots, creating a roostertail of water behind her. Andenes watched her go until she vanished over the horizon, then, using her private frequency, contacted Pol and gave her the latest news.

"Bridgett did a good job. She successfully held off a majority of the hunters." Andenes reported.

"That's good. That's very good. I'll be sure to give her praise for that when she gets back." Pol replied.

"You'll keep me out of it right?" Andenes asked.

"Andenes, you know I will. Why ask?" Pol said.

"Because slip ups can be fatal." Andenes replied.

"Still sore over that aren't you?" Pol sighed. "I'll be careful, don't worry. I nearly lost you once, I'm not about to make the same mistake again." She said.

"Good girl."

...

5 weeks later, Andenes got word that Westra had been freed from the impound and was on her way to the Faroes. Sure enough, 2 days later, Andenes' radar picked up a new contact. It appeared over the horizon as a ship resembling that of a patrol vessel. Andenes had seen many in her years of service. As this one drew closer, she could picked out details on it. The dazzle paint was an instant giveway as to the ship's allegiance. Andenes' first guess would be Pol but Pol was no patrol boat and she definitely did not sport the dazzle stripes this ship had, Andenes' former apprentice had a leopard pattern to her dazzle. But the biggest different between her and this new ship was the number on the bow. Pol didn't have a "77" the last Andenes looked. The 77 wasn't the ship's yard number, but rather it stood for the year Sea Shepherd was founded, 1977. Only one ship could carry that honor, the flagship.

Westra halted in front of her, amber eyes narrowed. But from annoyance or curiosity, Andenes couldn't tell.

"You must be Westra." Andenes said.

"That's MY Steve Irwin to you." Westra growled back, tone chilly.

"Very well then Irwin. While on names, mine is Andenes." Andenes answered.

"I know who you are." Westra said. "Just stay out of my way and there will be no problems."

"I'm merely hear to observe. As I told Bridgett, I will only intervene if you do something illegal." Andenes said, adopting a cooler tone.

"Then we understand one another." With a dip of her head, Westra sailed past me.

 _"So this is Westra."_ Andenes mused as she watched her go. _"She's an interesting sort. Cool but not without feeling. A perfect blend, a perfect flagship."_

Andenes knew Westra from years earlier, back when she was still a Scottish Fisheries Patrol Vessel in the 80s. Her long patrols carried her far into the North Sea in search of foreign ships and she often found herself wondering into her patrol area. Her past could be classified as rocky at best. Not even Andenes knew the full story. But she did know of her estrangement with her siblings and with her homeport in Scotland. Following that incident, Westra left her home and in tears, found her. Andenes let her stay with her in Norway for nearly a year before she decided it was time to move on. Andenes escorted her to the border. That was the last time she ever saw her, until now.

Watching her work now, Andenes was proud at how far she'd come. She went from being a lost young ship with no purpose to a seasoned veteran vigilante, full of a youthful energy a ship her age shouldn't have. Though not as nimble as Bridgett, a ship like her didn't need to be when facing down small ships like these. Her fangs worked as intimidation tools and if a boat got too bold and approached then Westra would crouch as though she was going to attack and growl a warning. That usually did the trick and sent the little blighters running! Even Andenes, watching from a far, resisted the urge to run at the sound. It wasn't the growl itself that was dangerous, it was what Westra had done with it. She used it to summon a ships' natural base instinct. The same found in every animal. Fight or flight. It was brilliant.

By nightfall the job was done and not a single pilot whale was killed, courtesy of Westra's sonar and whale sound efforts previously. Sailing back to the bay's entrance, the Sea Shepherd flagship held her head high in pride, smugness radiating off every inch of her hull. Andenes figured she'd earn the right though. What she did, was pretty impressive.

Westra sailed up to her. "What did you think of that?" She asked.

"That was, pretty cool Westra, pretty cool." Andenes answered.

Westra bristled at the breech in protocol but decided to let it slide this time. In a gentler voice she said "Andenes I, to see you like this..."

"I know. I know." Andenes' green eyes, bright round and sad, reflected the moonlight, making them luminous. She stretched her nose out and nuzzled the other ship. A questioned had been nagging Andenes for some time now. Having the chance to say it, she took the opportunity. Who knew when she'd have another chance. "Why didn't you come back?" She asked.

It was Westra's turn to look sad now as her amber gaze sweeped over the Norwegian. "I moved on." She replied.

"You know you were always welcomed in Norway." Andenes said. "I-I waited for you."

"I'm sorry." Westra's eyes closed as she looked away, her breathing hitched.

"I know you are." Andenes murmured. "But that doesn't change the fact that you hurt me."

Westra's head dropped, a whimpering sound escaping her as she struggled to fight back her emotions. Andenes, knowing Westra's nature and that she'd have to get her to crack to get through, pressed on.

"I kept up on your whereabouts, always hoping you'd come my way. But you avoided the North Sea region like a bitch!" Andenes chuckled. "I sent Pol to you, you know." She continued. "I sent her to you because I knew you'd be a good teacher to her, and always treat her right."

"Andenes, please..." Westra begged.

Andenes knew she was getting close now. "I always believed in you." She said. "I knew you'd go on to do great things. Not because of your prophecy, but because you were a good ship with a determined heart. You believed in what was right and weren't afraid to set about striving for it and helping others to strive for it as well."

Westra sniffled.

"Those years in which we'd cross paths every patrol, I cherished them and I cherish them even more today. For they're the only real memories of you I have." Andenes said. "My sisters were estranged then and they are quite happy to remain so now. But you, you were the sister I never had. I loved you like one and I have never, ever stopped loving you. Because you Westra, you are my one and only sister."

Westra broke down in tears, throwing herself on Andenes and clinging to her. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She wailed. She buried her bow in the cruiser's side.

Andenes held her, rocking her back and forth gently. "I forgive you, darling. It's okay, shh.." She whispered.

The two ships sat there in their sorrow and their love. They knew that come morning, they'd have to inevitably part ways again but for the time being at least, they could enjoy one another's company.

...

Come morning, Andenes and Westra said their last farewells before the latter had to head out again.

"Don't stay away so long this time." Andenes begged. "Remember, my berth's always open."

"I know but I doubt Norway would appreciate seeing me in their waters." Westra chuckled.

"Aye but there's always the border. Name the time and place and I'll be there." Andenes replied.

Westra smiled and leaned forward, giving Andenes a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you soon, I promise." She whispered and then she was gone.

Westra had never really been one for long goodbyes, Andenes reflected. She'd always stick around only for a short time, just long enough to say a few words, then leave. But the one constant about her was despite her roaming nature, she would always come back. And come back to Andenes she had.

Briefly the cruiser considered calling her back and telling her who she really was. That she'd been a spy for Sea Shepherd this whole time. But that could wait. Westra would be back and Andenes could tell her then. For now though, she'd found her way back to Andenes and for the aging cruiser, that was all that mattered.


	11. Baptism of Fire: Part 1

AUGUST 1942

Enterprise shifted her weight back and forth. "I don't like this." She said. "Neither do I." North Carolina agreed. They were sailing a few hundred miles off Guadalcanal, having left the fleet there in Northampton's care. "Something's coming, something big." Enterprise said. "We best be prepared then." The battleship grunted. "My men are getting ancy, they're ready for a fight." Enterprise assured her. North Carolina smiled. "As are mine." She said.

Enterprise's prediction came to be reality sooner than she thought. The Japanese carrier Roujo was spotted by PBY scout planes. Enterprise launched her fighters, unaware that Roujo was the bait for a trap. 100 miles due east of Roujo and her small escorts, the carriers Zuikako, and Shuokako readied for battle. "This time Enterprise." Zuikako growled. "This time you won't escape!" Her own fighter planes raced away to the American task force. Enterprise's radar had been malfunctioning which in turn translated to troubles with her vision so she didn't see the planes until they were almost on top of her. "Japs!" She cried. "Those sneaky bastards!" North Carolina hissed and opened up with her five inch batteries. Enterprise followed suit. "Come on, you want some?!" She hissed. She watched as one heavily damaged D3A1DNE bomber, also known as a Val, fell under the constant explosions of flak and struck the sea below. "There's plenty more where that came from if you don't behave!" Enterprise snarled. North Carolina chuckled. Why the hot blooded carrier chose to be a healer she'd never know. Enterprise was more like a battleship than a carrier. The young battleship lashed out with her 20 and 40 mm anti-aircraft guns. "You alright back there NC?" Enterprise called. North Carolina paused, wondering what the carrier meant. Then she realized. She'd been sending so many rounds up at the Japanese that from the healer's standpoint, she looked to be on fire. North Carolina chuckled. "Couldn't be better Enterprise." She replied. "Keep it up then! Don't let these bastards get through!" Enterprise growled. "With pleasure." North Carolina replied and let loose with her guns once more. "Now if only I could hear those big sticks of yours." Enterprise said. Despite having been in commission for a little more than a year, North Carolina had yet to use her main guns for anything. She relied upon her five inch and anti-aircraft batteries to keep the Japanese planes busy and away from Enterprise. She shrugged. "As soon as I get shore duties, perhaps." She replied. "Aw!" The healer whined. "But I wanna hear them now!" North Carolina laughed. Enterprise could be quite the character. "All in good time my friend." The battleship replied.

A whistling sound reached North Carolina's highly tuned ears and she turned in time to see a Val that had gotten through her and the carrier's defenses making a diving run on Enterprise's aft flight deck. "Enterprise watch out!" She cried as the plane dropped the bomb right on deck. Her warning came too late and the bomb pierced through the deck near the fantail. It was on time delay and it landed deep inside Enterprise before going off. North Carolina still heard her friend's screams sometimes in her dreams from that. Damage control crews worked furiously to put out the raging fires. The Washington state timber deck was good in the sense that it lightened the load considerably on Enterprise's back. The bad news was it only helped the fires spread because it was well, wood!

A second plane got through and dropped its payload and this time, did even more significant damage. Enterprise convulsed in agony as the explosion tore through her boilers. The third bomb hit her stern and took out her steering mechanism. North Carolina managed to just move out of the way as the critically injured carrier limped past her. "Watch it!" She growled. "Stay back!" Enterprise begged her. "I've got no steering. The third bomb damaged my rudder." She groaned. North Carolina swore and ordered the task force to make circles around Enterprise, protecting her and at the same time keeping her from colliding with them. Enterprise was trying to remain strong but her efforts became less and less noticeable as the blood flowed from her wounds. She was taking in seawater which quickly turned crimson as it mingled with the flow of blood. Eventually, her rudder was fixed and she was underway again. She still listed slightly but that was being fixed as her men pumped the water out and began patching up her hull as best they could. That wouldn't stop the bleeding though, most of it now becoming internal as her hull was sealed shut. Hemorrhages from the damage inside, particularly in her boilers was a big problem.

As the fleet set a course for Pearl so Enterprise could get repairs done. The carrier turned healer limped along, trying to keep a decent pace for the rest of the task force but it was clear to North Carolina that it was a struggle. After a few hours, she'd had enough and nudged the Yorktown-class harshly. Enterprise rounded on her. "What?" She asked. "Don't strain yourself, not for us. If you need us to slow down, we will slow down. We're here to protect you." North Carolina replied. The rest of the cruisers and the destroyers nodded. "We'll stay with you Enterprise, take all the time you need, we'll be here." New Orleans promised. "Thank you." Enterprise whispered, her voice thick with emotion. North Carolina settled in beside her and helped her along.

The slow pace meant the journey to Hawaii would take 3 days and during that time, North Carolina watched as Enterprise grew weaker and weaker. While the carrier could limp along under her own power, North Carolina usually ended up half carrying her as they plodded along. Enterprise could no longer bear her own weight by herself. On top of all her injuries, Enterprise had said she'd been having these strange pains on her keel. She believed it was blisters, caused from the intense pressure she was placing on one small area of her keel. She wasn't designed to handle that. She whimpered as she plodded along, feeling the pain of every inch she gained. They were just a mere 20 miles outside Pearl Harbor, the island of Oahu in sight when Enterprise collapsed. North Carolina grunted as she tried to hold the 21,000 ton carrier's full weight. North Carolina turned to the nearest escort, the cruiser New Orleans. "Get into the harbor and find Vestal, go!" She ordered. New Orleans dipped her head and raced off. Enterprise was panting, sweat gleamed on her hull. Blood ran from her nostrils and a low, tired groan escaped her. North Carolina gasped. Despite her agreement to slow down and take it easy, Enterprise had pushed herself to the brink of heart failure. "Why?" North Carolina whispered. Enterprise's head bobbed weakly as she struggled to speak. "Wanted to get you home." She rasped. "I told you, En. We're here to protect you, not the other way around." North Carolina replied. "You're my fleet, my task force. I protect you too." Enterprise answered weakly. "Oh En..." North Carolina sighed. She held her close, kissing the top of her head. "You still want to hear those guns don't you?" She asked. Enterprise nodded. "Then hold on, and I'll let you hear them." North Carolina smiled. "You get better and I'll put on the best show you've ever seen with these babies." She said. Enterprise chuckled, a small twinkle appearing in her blue eyes. "I'd like that." She said, breaking down coughing. Infection had set in, just as North Carolina had feared, and Enterprise's fever raged. "Just hold on En, hold on..." She begged.

New Orleans came racing back. "Vestal's not there. Tennessee said she'd gone to Guadalcanal. It was a massacure there. Over half our force was sunk and all came back wounded." She said. "Damn it!" North Carolina swore. "Can we send word to her?" "Already done. The Naval Base is sending a message to the base at Henderson Airfield. She should get it in a few hours. But it'll take her at least a day to get back here." New Orleans answered. "Just when we need luck the most!" North Carolina hissed. "NC..." North Carolina turned back to Enterprise. She held the carrier tightly. "You just hold on, En. Just hold on." She begged.


	12. Babtism of Fire: Part 2

Enterprise limped into Pearl with North Carolina alongside. The battleship carried the carrier into her berth where she tied off and her crew disembarked. As soon as North Carolina backed off however Enterprise rolled on her side. North Carolina took up a position beside her. Enterprise's flanks moved rapidly as her breathing became labored and her teeth were bared up to the gum line from the pain. "Enterprise..." North Carolina whispered. "NC," the carrier rasped. "Look at my keel. Do you see blisters?" She asked. North Carolina looked. "Yep, I see 'em. A whole bunch of them concentrated in the same spot. Damn En, it's gonna be hell for you when those are popped." She said. She looked back at Enterprise to see that the carrier's eyes were slipping open and closed. She was trying desperately to hold on, knowing that if she went to sleep now she'd die. North Carolina had never felt so helpless. "What can I do?" She whimpered brokenly. "You know where the herb store is." Enterprise rasped. North Carolina nodded. "Middle shelf, far right is thyme. Grab three or four of those and bring them to me. The comfrey is right next to it, bring that as well." Enterprise ordered. North Carolina nodded and raced off, returning a few minutes later with the two herbs Enterprise had asked for. She set them down in front of the carrier. "Good, now I'm sure you know what marigold looks like by now, grab a bunch of that. Don't worry about how much you get, we've got plenty elsewhere." Enterprise said. North Carolina nodded and returned to the herb store and grabbed the whole lot of marigold, sensing that Enterprise would need it, before racing back. "Good, now I know you're gonna freak at this but I must ask you to cut me open." Enterprise rasped. "Do what?" North Carolina asked, taking a step back. Enterprise turned her weak gaze on her. "NC, I'm bleeding from the inside. You'll have to cut me open and stop that bleeding." She ordered. North Carolina nodded and steeled herself. "I don't know if I can." She said. "You can." Enterprise assured her. She handed her the scalpel and gulping, North Carolina took it. Taking a deep breath, she plunged in.

There were no anesthetics, Enterprise would need to be awake to walk North Carolina through this and it came at a cost. Enterprise shrieked as North Carolina plunged in. It hurt like hell but she remained still as North Carolina completed the delicate process of opening her up. Instantly a rush of blood came from her internal wounds, previously blocked in its passage by her hull. It flowed into the sea, turning the water in her berth a sickening red and the smell carried around the harbor. North Carolina backed off once that bit was completed and let Enterprise regain her wind before asking "What now?" "Take that scalpel and feel around, see if you can find the source of the bleeding, if you can, stop it." Enterprise ordered. North Carolina nodded and took the plunge once more. It was becoming a struggle for her to focus as the smell of blood and guts overwhelmed her senses but somehow she plundered on. She spotted a large vein that was twisted and leaking blood and grabbed it. Enterprise groaned. "Yep, that's it." She said. "Okay, how do I see it?" North Carolina asked. Enterprise handed her another tool along with a small piece of cloth. "Tie this around it. Once the vein's healed itself it will dissolve." She said. North Carolina nodded and quickly tied the cloth around the vein, making sure that no more blood got through. "Is that all?" She asked. "No, for the blood that's already been spilled you'll need to wash that out." Enterprise ordered. "Use the seawater."

The next few minutes were hell on earth for both ships. North Carolina wasn't sure how much longer she could stand hearing Enterprise's screams and wails, her pleas for her to stop. And Enterprise wasn't sure if she could withstand this for much longer either. At last, North Carolina cried "Done!" "Good, now take a welding torch and seal me shut." Enterprise ordered. North Carolina nodded and did so, quickly and efficiently. When she was done, a fresh scar laced Enterprise's hull. "You feel any better Enterprise?" North Carolina asked. "Not yet but at least I'll be on the mend now." Enterprise sighed. "You did well, NC. Thank you." North Carolina smiled. "Here to protect you, remember." She purred, nuzzling the Yorktown-class gently. Enterprise purred, returning it weakly. Now that she was out of danger, the carrier decided to give in and rest. North Carolina stayed with her. "Mind if I stay here?" She asked. "You're welcome to." Enterprise murmured sleepily. When Pennsylvania passed by later she resolved to never let North Carolina forget what a cute sight she made, cuddled up against Enterprise's flank.

A day later, Vestal entered port. She'd raced all the way from Guadalcanal to get there. Fearing the worst, she wasted no time in going to Enterprise's dock only to find her apprentice leaning against the dock and conversing with North Carolina. "Did I miss something?" Vestal asked. "Reports indicated you were critically injured Enterprise." Enterprise dipped her head. "And I was. I would've died long before you arrived if it hadn't been for NC here." She gave the battleship beside her an admiring glance. North Carolina ducked her head shyly as the apprentice healer praised her. "Enterprise directed me through it." She said. "I'm very proud of both of you." Vestal smiled. "Is there anything I can do for you Enterprise?" She asked her apprentice. Enterprise shifted her weight and North Carolina glanced once at the carrier before turning to Vestal. "There is one thing." She said.

"OWWW!" All the battleships looked up at Enterprise's cry. The carrier was on her side again, enduring Vestal's rigorous squeezing as she popped the countless number of blisters on her keel. "God damn it, Vestal. Take it easy!" Enterprise groaned. The healer wasn't listening. "Ah, this is a big one." She said and Enterprise yowled again as Vestal applied pressure to it. "She can take being cut wide open without anesthetics but she can't take a few blisters?" North Carolina chuckled. Enterprise glared murderously at her. "I'll see you in hell for this!" She growled. North Carolina pulled her best innocent face. "Why? What did I do?" She asked. The carrier shrieked again as Vestal got through to the blister and successfully popped it, collecting its fluids. "Damn, Enterprise, how the hell did you get this many blisters?" She asked. "By being stupid and reckless, as usual." North Carolina grunted. "Shut up!" Enterprise moaned. North Carolina chuckled. "And she's back." She said, wincing as Enterprise's harsh glare washed over her. The carrier could very well burn a hole in your soul with that gaze. North Carolina shut up and wisely decided to leave.

"You're stuck in port for 2 months, no exceptions." Vestal ordered as she finished off the last of the blisters. "Ugh." Enterprise groaned then yelped as Vestal washed sea water into the open blisters to clean them. "There, now be more careful from now on." Vestal ordered. Enterprise sighed and righted herself, leaning against the dock. Vestal smiled and nuzzled her before sailing happily away.


	13. Bostonians Chapter 1

APRIL 15, 2013

A pair of kaleidoscope eyes surveyed the city skyline with growing interest. In a few minutes, the first of the runners would come by their owners dock. Constitution looked forward to that. Lots of people meant lots of attention and what ship didn't like that? The aging Ship of State held herself high and proud upon the water. "Show off." muttered Perry, a modern day frigate moored nearby. Constitution merely stuck her tongue at her in reply. Immature for a former US Naval Fleet Leader but she didn't care. She was enjoying herself. Perry snorted behind her and turned her attention back to a pair of fish that were swimming lazily beneath the waves. "Just a little closer." She murmured to herself.

After a little more waiting, Constitution's battle instincts grew more on edge. She sensed something amiss, she just didn't know what. Her ears wide open and her nostrils flaring, she listened for anything that might indicate trouble. There was no warning, Constitution never sensed anything before she saw it. A puff of smoke in the distance. From her position, it might not have looked like much, just another part of the festivities. But the old warship knew better. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in the strong, almost overwhelming, smell of black powder struck her. That was the last straw for her. With a simple flick of her head, Constitution threw her mooring lines away and raced to the scene.

She was scolded by several officials for leaving her berth but she accepted the reprimand, knowing they were merely concerned for her safety, as well they should be. Who knew how many other devices had been planted. On the dock nearby, Constitution caught the distinct dull shine of metal. Curious, she moved towards it, picking it up in her teeth. Her years of combat had made her well attuned to the scents of black powder and this hunk of junk gave off heaps of it. "I think I found something." She said, her voice muffled behind the metal. An FBI agent came over to her. "Let me see." He said, holding out his hand. She dropped the piece of metal lightly into it. He patted her nose in thanks and observed. "What is it?" Constitution asked. "It looks like a piece of a pressure cooker." He replied. Constitution's breath hitched. "A bomb?" She asked. He nodded. "Fraid so."

Constitution was no stranger to such tactics. 2 of the 4 planes used in the September 11 attacks were from Boston Airport and she'd known, from the moment they took off she had sensed the sinister quality about them, that something tragic would occur. But she had no time to warn anyone. She'd woken up this morning feeling a bit uneasy but she merely attributed it to her late night excursion previous. Now she knew better and she knew, just by looking at the remains of the once potent bomb, just who was behind this. "Those fucking bastards!" She growled. "I'm assuming you know who's behind this." The agent said as she started to pace. Not pausing, Constitution replied "11 years ago, a pair of planes took off from Boston Airport, a few miles from where I was docked. I could sense something sinister about them but I had no time to give out a warning before tragedy struck. I'm getting the same sense now, the exact same." She halted, growing weary of her efforts but her eyes, a minute ago a bright assortment of hundreds of colors, now turned coal black with fury and her teeth, her razor sharp dagger teeth, became bared up to the gumline. "There's is a stench I'd recognize anywhere." She snarled. "Al Queda." The agent growled. Constitution nodded, keeping her eyes on the waterfront. "The FBI will find the bastards!" The agent promised. "What is your name, sir?" She asked, a tinge of authority seeping its way into her voice. "Bainbridge ma'am." He replied, standing at attention. "Isaac Bainbridge." She tipped her head to one side. "Interesting." She mused. "Are you..." "Yes. William was my great, great grandfather." He finished for her. Her eyes widened slightly, the black orbs turning a vibrate shade of green. "So that's why I can sense you." She murmured. He nodded, reaching out with one hand. She accepted the offer, pressing her prow against his fingertips. His other hand came up to join his first, his fingers tracing the unique curves in her hull. Constitution's eyes turned amber before she closed them, purring contentedly. "I have no idea who caused this directly, but you have my word I will find the bastards and take them out." He growled. Eyes still closed, Constitution murmured "Let me help." Bainbridge hesitated. "Oh, Constitution I don't know.." He began. "Please." She begged, her eyes turning a deep shade of blue as she pleaded with him. He shifted, still uncertain. "We Bostitonians have to stick together." She said. "Well alright but if it gets too dangerous, you're off the case, got it!" He growled. She nodded. "I hope I can handle it." She grinned.

Bainbridge left a few hours later but he was back by days end. Constitution had returned to her dock, getting permission from her caretakers to take part in the investigation. "Tsarnaev. There are two brothers, Dzhokhar and Tamerlan. That's who we're looking for." He told her. "We'll find them." She growled. "If it's the last thing we do, we will find them." There was a fire in her eyes that hadn't been seen by anyone of this generation. It was a fire that was lit when a warship fought, when she was at war. But nothing, not 1812, nor Barbary, not even the horrors of 9/11 could've ever sparked the flame that lit Constitution's currently silver eyes. Her birthplace, her home, her city had been attacked. Her people's blood had been spilled this day and by God she was going to avenge them.

She remained awake that night. Anyone driving by her berth would've seen her proud outline against the starlit sky, her kaleidoscope gaze flashing in the darkness, the faint glint of her bared teeth seen as well, as she kept careful watch over her beloved home.


	14. Bostonians Chapter 2

The next morning, Constitution was up bright and early with the sunrise. Something she rarely did anymore as her years began to catch up with her. Stifling a yawn, she turned to see Bainbridge coming towards her. "What's the news?" She asked. "We might have a lead. Sean A Collier, a Police officer with the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Department was found dead in his car this morning. We have reason to believe the murders are the Tsarnev brothers. Constitution bared her teeth. "They killed a police officer?" She hissed. Bainbridge nodded. "Did you know Collier?" He asked. She shook her head. "No, but I didn't know any of the people at the bombings either!" She growled. "That's not all. We've also learned that the brothers stole a Mercedes SUV and hijacked it's owner. The man managed to escape and phone the authorities. Last known location was Watertown." "Well then what are we waiting for?" She asked, tossing her mooring lines. He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that." He chuckled and climbed aboard as she raced away.

Watertown was part of the Greater Boston area and Constitution knew every inch of the big port's coastline. It would take her some fancy maneuvering to get inland but she managed. She sailed in as close to the shore as possible. "Alright, this is as far as I go. You're on your own from here." She said, pulling up hard against the dock. "I'll see what I can do to rouse the local police to aid in your search." Bainbridge patted her nose. "Thank you." He motioned for her to lower her head, which she did. Constitution felt something being placed gingerly on her bow. "A headset, use it to contact me if you have any luck." He exclaimed. "I will." She promised. "And Bainbridge!" She called as he turned to go. He paused. "Yes, Constitution?" "Be careful." She begged. He grinned. "Always am." He replied and left. Sighing, Constitution left the dock in search of other ships who might be able to help should the brothers attempt to escape by sea. A majority were happy to do what they could to avenge their city and Constitution had them placed in strategic places all around the harbor. Now came the hardest part, waiting.

Fortunately she didn't have to wait long. Her headset crackled and Bainbridge's voice came through. "Coming your way." He said. "Report!" Constitution growled, already weighing anchor. "We found the brothers." He said hesitantly. "And the bad news?" She asked. "Shots were fired. They're making for the get away car, it's parked on the Waterfront not far from where you dropped me off." He replied. Constitution's superb eyesight identified it at once. "I see it." She growled. "Get ready, we're gonna make an entrance." Bainbridge said and shut off his radio as he concentrated on pursuing the fleeing Tsarsnev brothers.

Growling, Constitution ran out her guns. All 44 of them, their muzzles glinting in the sun. Her teeth were bared and her eyes burned coal black. She was ready for a fight. A minute later, sirens were heard as the police and FBI chased the brothers down to the waterfront. Dzhokhar got to the car first, Tamerlan wasn't so lucky and being surrounded by cops, made a dash for the water. Constitution was ready for him and plucked him up easily. She showed the man no mercy and the last thing he saw was her coal black eyes and sharp teeth that crushed him into oblivion. Constitution flung his lifeless body into the road as Dzhokhar ran over it with his SUV. Growling, she fired a few rounds at the car but none had any affect. "You can't run forever bastard!" She hissed as the car vanished among the thousands in the Boston streets.


	15. Bostonians Chapter 3

Constitution remained awake all that night as well. She had promised to never sleep until the brothers were found. Bainbridge didn't like this. "Constitution you have to rest." He growled to her late that night. She shook her head. "I can't." She replied. "I won't until we catch these bastards." "You won't be much help to the unit if you're too tired to work." He said. "I've done all nighters before, it's nothing new." She said. "When you were in active service which was over a century ago." He retorted. She shrugged. "I can still do it." She said. "Constitution, please..." He begged. "Please what Isaac?" She sighed. "Don't wear yourself down like this." He replied. "I'm not about to rest while my city is in danger." She growled. Issac was about to answer but another officer came running up then. "Bainbridge, get in the car let's go!" He ordered. "What's happened?" Bainbridge demanded. "A local called in, says he found a body under a tarp in his yard." The man replied. Bainbridge raced off and Constitution, flinging her mooring lines, followed after the parade of FBI and Police units.

She dropped anchor at the end of the wharf, keeping a watchful gaze on the roads coming in and out it. Her training kept her perfectly still and her night black hull did its job. Only the whites of her eyes, flashing occasionally in the darkness, could be seen. Sirens could be heard in the distance and Constitution tensed as they grew louder and louder and louder. The brilliant flash of headlights blinded her before she felt the sting of bullets against her wooden hull. They didn't have much affect against the wood until she cried out suddenly as one struck her left eye. Now knowing where to aim, the unknown assailant or assailants fired full magazines right into her bow. Most bullets made their mark. Blood filled Constitution's eyes, blinding her. Unable to see, the frigate was helpless against her attacker. Voices shouted from somewhere nearby and a the sound of gunshots pierced the night.

Constitution felt her way along the dock, using it to guide her towards the sound when a sharp pain pierced her side. She cried out, hearing even more shouts and more gunshots. One voice rang out over the din. "CONSTITUTION!" It was Bainbridge. "Issac..." Constitution tried to move towards him but her side flared with pain. The noise faded into the background as she blacked out.


	16. Bostonians Chapter 4

Bainbridge could only watch in horror as Dzhokhar Tsarnev escaped out of his reach and drove down to the docks. He knew Constitution had killed his brother and he wanted revenge. Bainbridge pulled out his radio, hoping to warn the frigate of the impending danger but it was too late. The sound of gunshots rang into the night and then the FBI agent heard a sound he'd hope he'd never have to hear. A piercing scream split the night air, a scream of agony, fear, and despair. The sound of it resonated within bones. To the average human, it sounded like merely another womanly shriek. But to those who could see, who could truly See the ships for what they really were, it was a cry of death. Somehow, Dzhokhar had managed to wound Constitution so that the once proud frigate was made helpless. What Bainbridge saw when he arrived on the scene, he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Constitution stumbled along, using the dock as a sort of guide. Blood filled and ran out of her eye sockets, indicating that she'd taken several hits to them. A ship that couldn't see was as good as dead though at the moment, Constitution was relying on her other senses to guide her along. She had her guns run out but she didn't dare fire them, fearful that due to her blindness, she'd hit something or someone friendly, not her intended target. Bainbridge pulled to a stop and leaped out of the car. "Constitution!" He cried. Constitution's head whipped around at the sound of his voice. "Issac?" She whispered uncertainly, trying to move towards the sound of his voice. She didn't notice that Dzhokhar had placed a pair of grenades on her hull and when she moved the pin was pulled. Fire flashed up along her side and she shrieked in pain, staggering. Bainbridge tried to run faster, desperate to get to her. The smell of burning oak grew stronger the closer he got. Constitution could hear him approaching and desperate, she tried to move in his direction. Her wounded side prevented her and she gasped slightly.

Bainbridge reached her just as she fell against the dock, unconscious. His fingers stroked the small curves and laces in her prow. "Wake up, Connie." He whispered. "Wake up..." Constitution was frighteningly still under his hands. "Medic!" He shouted. "I need a medic over here!" As a man came running up, Bainbridge turned to him and said "I hope you have experience with ships." "I have some yes." The man replied. "Then get to it, quickly now!" Bainbridge growled. "Keep a close eye on her." The man ordered and set to work assessing the damage.

Constitution regained consciousness a few minutes later. Her nose twitched, recognizing Bainbridge's scent. "Issac?" She questioned. "Right here." He replied, stroking her prow gently. She purred weakly, nudging him with her nose. "How bad?" She asked. "The doctor's doing an assessment right now." Bainbridge replied. "She's got massive damage to her lens. The outer shell has been completely destroyed, with time perhaps it'll heal. I can't say definitively if she'll see again or not." The man called. "And her side?" Bainbridge questioned. Constitution suddenly stiffened. "Bainbridge, get back!" She gasped. "What's wrong, Constitution?!" He demanded. "The gunpowder, the fire it's reached it. Get back, both of you now!" She cried. "Can't you put it out?" Bainbridge asked. "It's too late, I can't do anything!" She whimpered. "She's right, we can't be anywhere near her when that powder ignites. The explosion would kill us for sure." The doctor said. "And her?" Bainbridge asked. "I don't know. I would think she'd survive initially but there's no telling the trauma she'll sustain from it." He replied. "Go, Issac. Please..." Constitution begged, pressing her muzzle against his hand. "I'll be right back." He promised. She whimpered, her bloodied eyes closing tight as she braced herself. Bainbridge had only just gotten clear when a ball of flame shot out Constitution's damaged side, blowing her hull wide open. Her wail could be heard for miles. Firefighting crews set to the task of extinguishing the flames while Bainbridge ran back to the stricken frigate.

Constitution lay completely on her side now, fortunately the water helped to put out the fire. Her exposed side gleamed with sweat, the paint blistered from the heat. Blood was just everywhere, turning the black water a sickly shade of maroon. Straightening out in the current were, as best as Bainbridge could figure, the frigates intestines, gleaming white beneath the surface. Feeling sick, he turned back to Constitution's bow. What remained of her eyes were still closed and a trail of blood trickled from her mouth. Fearful, he leaned down and placed a hand gently across her nose, relieved to feel the warmth of her breath against his fingers. "Good girl." He sighed, stroking her. A horn sounded and Arleigh Burke arrived on the scene. She was the fleet's only healer now that New Jersey had been decommissioned. "Move!" She growled to the men that had crowded around Constitution. "Can you help her?" Bainbridge asked. "It's bad but I'll do what I can." Arleigh sighed. She set to work at once, inspecting Constitution from bow to stern. "She's suffered massive internal trauma to most of her major organs. I've got to get her to the medical berths stat." She growled. With nary a struggle, Arleigh lifted the frigate up and over her bow, resting her on her forward deck. "Let me come with you." Bainbridge begged. "Why should I? You'd just get in the way." Arleigh growled. "She's family. My great great grandfather was her captain at one time." Bainbridge growled. Arleigh relented and let him climb aboard, racing off into the night.

Reaching the medical berths she shooed Bainbridge away while she conducted a nearly 15 hour long surgery. Bainbridge, having nothing to do, remained just outside the medical berths, pacing. Docked beside him was Arleigh's sister Cole. The destroyer looked at him. "Constitution will be okay. If anyone can help her, it's Arleigh." She said. "How would you know?" Bainbridge muttered. "She saved my life a while back. One doesn't soon forget such things." Cole replied. She shifted, revealing a 40 foot long scar on her starboard side. "I was lucky to make it back to the states, let alone survive surgery. When I got back, I was so weak Arleigh had to wait nearly 2 weeks before she proclaimed me strong enough to conduct surgery." "Sorry, I forgot about that." Bainbridge grunted. "I'm not surprised. My own injury was eclipsed a year later by the same bastards!" Cole growled. "I got my revenge in the end though." Bainbridge nodded and resumed his pacing. "She'll make it, she's strong." Cole assured him. "I hope you're right." Bainbridge sighed but he couldn't shake the nagging guilt that gnawed at him. Constitution was a part of his unit, if she died, the blame would rest on him and rightly so. _"Please wake up Connie, please..."_ He thought.


	17. Bostonians Chapter 5

Constitution couldn't recall a type she'd been in more pain. Not even the battle against Java when she lost her wheel and some of her rigging hurt this much. She could feel a bandage of sorts over her eyes. She remembered the fight against the remaining Tsarnev brother. Her side flared with pain and she whimpered. Arleigh heard her and turned. "Ah, you're awake." She said. "Arleigh, it hurts.." Constitution whimpered. "I know it does. I'll give you some pain killers in a little bit once the anesthesia fully wears off. "Dzhohkar..." She asked. "He's in police custody now. He won't be bothering you or this city again." Arleigh replied. Constitution sighed in relief. "Good..." She murmured. "Arleigh?" Cole came forward. "Yes, sis what is it?" Arleigh asked. "Bainbridge wants to know if he can come in now." Cole answered. "Please, let him..." Constitution sighed. Arleigh nodded her agreement and a minute later, the FBI agent came racing in. "Constitution! Oh look at you, I'm sorry this is my fault!" He began. Constitution stopped him right there. "First off, Issac I made my own decision. What injuries I sustained were the result of my own actions, nothing more." She grunted. He sighed. "I was so worried.." He murmured. "It'd take more than a few bullets and grenades to take me down." She chuckled, pressing her muzzle against his hand. "You might not see again." He said. "A ship can survive without her sight if she has the proper training." Constitution shrugged. Arleigh shrugged. "That's true.." She allowed, her own blind gaze flashing. Bainbridge stroked his fingers down Constitution's muzzle. The old frigate purred, pressing her head against his fingers. He smiled. "Still eager for attention." He chuckled. "Why wouldn't I be? I like a good petting when I can get it." She murmured. She sounded exhausted and Bainbridge was reminded of the fact that she hadn't slept a wink since the bombings, 3 days ago, surgery not withstanding. "Rest, Constitution." He begged her. A soft sigh escaped the frigate. "Stay with me?" She asked. "I wouldn't dream of going anywhere else." He replied. She relaxed and the smooth even breathing told him she'd fallen asleep. He continued to stroke her until exhaustion took its tole on him as well. Arleigh gently placed a blanket over him. He raised an eyebrow at her mothering but said nothing. He was soon curled up at Constitution's bow, the pair sleeping soundly through the day.

Constitution returned to her berth a few days later, the bandage still on her eyes. Arleigh came by daily to check up on her. "Well they seem to be healing nicely." She said as she applied a fresh bandage. "Do you feel anything? Any pain?" She asked. Constitution shook her head. "No, nothing." She replied. "Hmm.." Arleigh murmured. "If you do, let me know." She gave the frigate one last nuzzle before leaving. Bainbridge approached. "I know what you're going to say." Constitution said before he could even open his mouth. "And as I already told you, I made my own decisions." "But still, you-you could be blinded for life." He said. "So, I'm dockside for life. It's not like my sight is much use to me anyway." She snorted. "Still though.." He began. "No, I don't want to hear it Bainbridge. I made my own choices and I'm okay with them." She said. He sighed, giving in. "You're a stubborn bitch when you want to be." He growled. She grinned. "It's a gift." She replied, lowering her head for him to stroke. "And an attention hog." He added. She chuckled, burying her bow against his chest, her bowsprit boom resting over his shoulder. He smiled, fingers running soothing circles around her hull. Though he couldn't see it, behind the bandage Constitution's eyes changed from blue to warm amber. The mood had returned and it was the first step towards overall healing.

2 weeks later, Arleigh decided Constitution's eyes had healed as much as they could and removed the bandage. The sudden bright light came as a surprise to Constitution and her pupils contracted as she adjusted accordingly. Bainbridge related this to the healer. "Well, they seem to respond to light still. That's a good sign. Tell me, what can you see?" Arleigh asked. Constitution blinked a few times. It was a bit blurry but that soon cleared up. "I can see still, no change." She replied. "You sure?" Arleigh asked skeptically, a hint of something else in her voice. Was that envy? "Yes." Constitution replied. Arleigh sighed. "Very well then. I still recommend you come and see me at least once a week. There's still a chance that scaring might affect your vision." She said and sailed off. "She seems a bit tense. Wonder what her problem is?" Bainbridge asked. "I think I know." Constitution sighed and sailed after the destroyer.

Arleigh anchored in the middle of the harbor, her head lowered to the water's surface, looking at a reflection she could not see. "Tell me Constitution, tell me honestly how you'd feel if I told you that I wished you were blind." Arleigh murmured as she approached. The bitterness in the young healer's voice made Constitution pause. "Well," She hesitated. "I suppose I can understand how you feel." "But can you really, Connie?" Arleigh sighed. "A part of me was so hoping you would go blind from this. It goes against everything I know and love as a healer but it-it's just not fair!" She cried. "Why do you get a second chance and I don't?!" Constitution moved forward, brushing her bow against her side. "There's no clear answer for that." She sighed. "I only have one day a year that I have my sight returned to me. A day of sorrow and remembrance. Why should I only see such things? Why can't I see joy or happiness or love?" Arleigh whimpered. She fell against Constitution, sobbing. "Shhh..." She whispered. "Shh, it's okay." "Why me?! What did I do to deserve this?!" Arleigh wailed. "I don't know, Arleigh. I don't know." Constitution replied. "Why did Missouri come rescue me? She should've left me there. She should've left me to die! I want to die! I want it!" Arleigh sobbed. "Don't you think that. Don't you even think that for a second!" Constitution growled. "You are the fleet's trusted healer. New Jersey can't manage on her own. If you died, I can't imagine the pain the fleet would feel for that. Sure, you could see among the Ancients, but would you really want to see what would happen if you died?" Arleigh sighed. "No, I wouldn't." She admitted at last. "I'm being so selfish, thinking like this! Forgive me Connie!" She begged. "Of course I will." Constitution replied. "You have every right to feel the way you do." She held Arleigh, rocking her back and forth gently and for the rest of the day, she never once left the healer's side.

"Stay with me!" Arleigh begged her as she settled in her berth that night. "Of course." Constitution replied. Though the frigate was smaller than the destroyer, Arleigh curled into her side with ease and Constitution, being the protective leader she was, rested her head over hers and the pair fell quickly and quietly to sleep.


	18. Britannic's Promise

Britannic shuffled uneasily through her herbs in the silence. Adriatic was off in her own corner. Ever since the elder healer had learned that the navy required one of them in the Dardanelles, she'd been unusually quiet. Britannic sighed. It wasn't like her mentor to be like this. Adriatic may've been an aging ship but she was still spry and never had any trouble letting loose with her long barbed tongue.

At last Britannic couldn't take it anymore and said "what's on your mind Adriatic." "I think you know very well what's on my mind." Adriatic snapped back. "I don't have my sister's gift. How should I know?" Britannic said, calm as ever. Adriatic sighed. "Whoever ends up going to the Med I'll tell you one thing, it won't be you." She growled. "What?!" Britannic cried. "Adriatic, I have the Gift of Compassion, I know what to do to help a patient just by sensing what they're feeling. I'm the logical choice." "Yes, that's what worries me." Adriatic sighed. Britannic's anger grew. "I'M NOT A CHILD ANYMORE!" She roared. "I KNOW THAT!" Adriatic yelled back. "BUT YOU STILL WON'T BE GOING!"

Britannic was about to give a nasty reply when she was hit with a wave of fear and worry that her special sense picked up. Looking at her mentor she could see the fear that lit the anger in her clear blue eyes. "Adriatic..." She asked uncertainly. Adriatic took a deep, shaky breath to try and calm herself but once the anger faded away, the tears started to come. "Come here." Britannic murmured as she held her against her side. Adriatic's hull shook with her sobs. "I don't want you to go. I don't want you to..." She whimpered. "Shh, shh I know. I know now. I'm sorry Adriatic." Britannic replied gently. "Let me go. I'm more experienced." Adriatic said. Britannic shook her head. "You're an experienced healer. If you were gone, I wouldn't be able to cope." She replied. "Despite my gift I'm expendable." "Don't think of yourself that way." Adriatic whimpered as she leaned against her. "From a military standpoint, I am and you know it." Britannic said. "Don't just please don't..." Adriatic sobbed. Britannic sighed, nuzzling her gently. "You know I love you." She said. Listly, Adriatic nodded. "Then trust me when I say I will come back." Britannic replied. "You promise?" Adriatic asked, looking up at her with big round eyes. "I promise." Britannic replied. She kissed the top of her mentor's head. Adriatic fell against her. "I love you Britannic." She said. "And I love you too." Britannic replied. And then she was gone, sailing off for the Mediterranean and Gallipoli.

About a year later, Adriatic got the news. "But she couldn't have!" The aging healer wailed. HMS Indefatigable bowed her head. "I'm sorry HMT Adriatic." She said. "She promised me! She promised!" Adriatic wailed. The Royal Navy deputy reached out to try and comfort the distraught healer but Adriatic pushed her away. "I hate you!" She screamed and raced away. Olympic came up beside her. She'd heard everything. "I knew she'd take it worse than me." She said. "I'd say she took it better. At least she's still respondent." Indefatigable replied. Olympic shrugged. "I won't deny the news shocked me. And I think Adriatic had some time to prepare. It doesn't take a Newton to figure out what happened." She said. "True, true..." Indefatigable sighed, gazing after Adriatic with a worried gaze. "Give her time. The worst thing you can do is go after her when she's in this state. Adriatic has a tongue like barbed wire on a good day but right now she just might have claws that are as such." Olympic said. "If you need me, I'll be at Cowes." Indefatigable said. Olympic nodded and the battleship steamed off.

Adriatic was still bawling when she reached her herbstore. Everything was stacked neatly and normally, Adriatic would be pleased but right now, she felt nothing but disgust at the neatly stacked rows. Snarling, she knocked everything over, herbs went flying and a picture that Adriatic had set up of her and her apprentice was knocked down as well. She went over to pick it up. The glass covering it was cracked now but the photo inside remained untouched. Britannic, her eyes sparkling as she grinned away up at her. Fresh tears sliding down her cheeks, Adriatic held it close to her. "Never again, never..." She whispered. "White Star can go without a new healer for all I care. Carpathia can train one if she wants but I won't. I won't ever!" She vowed.

...

Adriatic was shocked at what she was seeing. Sure, Olympic's introduction had prepared her but still. The little motor vessel was about the same size as Mauretania but she was stouter looking with two black capped golden funnels raked nicely down the center of her back. But it was the eyes that gave her away. That bright neon green gaze had haunted Adriatic ever since the end of the Great War. She'd longed to see them again, for so many years she'd hoped. Still unsure if this was just a dream and the ship would disappear before she could touch her, Adriatic whispered "Britannic..." Her apprentice smiled. "I've missed you Adriatic." She replied. Olympic dipped her head. "I'll leave you two alone." She said. She nuzzled her sister before turning and sailing away. Adriatic faced Britannic now. "You promised." She growled. Britannic bowed her head. "I know. I'm sorry." She replied. Adriatic came forward and nuzzled her. "Though it took longer than expected, you did come back." She said. "Thank you, Britannic." Britannic held her mentor tightly to her side as 13 years of grief and anger flowed out of Adriatic in the form of hot wet tears. "I love you." She whispered. Her voice shaky and unstable, Adriatic replied softly "I never stopped loving you."

...

5 against 1, Britannic knew she was screwed. Even with New Jersey nearby, the battleship was busy fighting Potemkin. But Britannic wasn't afraid. She was a warrior, she'd fought in both World Wars and her knowledge as a healer helped her determine where to strike where it hurt. "Bring it you over sized rusted tin cans!" She snarled. That of course mad the angry Russians even anger and they lunged at her. Britannic dodged the first one as she came, scraping her side as she passed. The second one she sunk her teeth into before flipping her over her shoulder. The third and forth came at her and Britannic braced herself but Kirov struck them both down with a salvo. "Can you handle it here?" She asked. "I need to help New Jersey." Britannic nodded. "Go, I can manage." She ordered. Kirov dipped her head and raced off. Britannic chased off two of her attackers. They ran back to Russia squealing, their flanks torn to shreds. The other two were still trying to find their keels. Having no intentions of letting them, Britannic bopped them over the head and down they went.

Thinking it was safe, Britannic turned to see how New Jersey was fairing. Kirov was grappling with Potemkin while New Jersey found her keel. The battleship lunged when Potemkin had Kirov pinned. New Jersey tried hard to keep her grip but Potemkin was too strong. Britannic watched the pair go down with Potemkin landing on top of New Jersey. She started to race forward to help her fellow healer, knowing that the battleship would be seriously injured but she was pulled back. The two ships she'd turned her back on where now upright again and one grabbed her neck. Britannic tried to cry for help but no sound came out. She found she couldn't breathe and she heard and felt a sickening pop. _"A broken neck."_ She realized. The pair let her go. RMS Britannic was dead before her body hit the water, her sightless green gaze fixed on New Jersey.

...

"Britannic." Britannic groaned as she came to. "Britannic, open your eyes my dear apprentice." "Ugh, Adriatic." She asked as she roused. Her mentor stood in front of her and behind her stood the whole of White Star's ranks. "I'm dead, aren't I?" Britannic asked. Adriatic nodded sadly. "You fought well, Britannic." She replied. Britannic leaned against her mentor. "I've missed you." She said. Adriatic smiled. "And I've missed you." She replied. "I won't have to go back any time soon will I?" Britannic asked. "That I do not know." Adriatic replied, looking at the large crimson eyed liner behind her. Titanic shook her head. "Time will tell." She said. Adriatic nodded and turned back to Britannic. "I still love you." She whispered. Britannic smiled and pulled her mentor in for an embrace. "I never stopped loving you." She replied.


	19. Code of Honor Rule 1

**Battleships are hereby forbidden to have friends in their fleets, friends with foreign fleets, friends with either domestic or foreign merchant fleets or any other form of a relationship. Sister ships may interact with one another but no friendship can be formed between them. If one is found in any or all of these scenarios, the death penalty will be issued to the offending ship/s.  
** **Note:** **This rule was abolished in the US in 1948 by USS Missouri (BB-63).**

Tirpitz and Serapis

Sneaking out of the harbor had become gradually easier for Serapis as time went on. Due to the increasing tensions with France, the fort sentries were more concerned with ships entering the fortress than leaving it.

"If anyone asks, I'm on patrol." She whispered to one, her friend Ottawa. She was the only ship that knew the truth about where Serapis was going at night. Ottawa nodded. "Be back soon, I hear that we're going out to fight in the morning." She whispered. Serapis dipped her head and sailed out.

Tirpitz was waiting for her when she arrived. "I was beginning to get worried." She said. "Security's gotten a little tighter on my end." Serapis replied.

"Serapis, I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. It's only a matter of time before England goes to war with France and when we do, I can't fight you." Tirpitz whispered. "I know that, Tirpitz. Neither can I." Serapis replied.

They shared a brief embrace and Serapis reluctantly turned back for England.

Barely a week later, England and France's fleets were at war in the English Channel. The French and Indian War had begun.

"Give it up Paris, you'll never win!" Victory cried. "I'll never surrender if that's what you mean." Paris replied.

Serapis exchanged gunfire with a small frigate named Atlantis. She gave her a good round in her side that sent her reeling. "Serapis!" Tirpitz cried in warning.

Serapis turned just in time to meet Paris' collision head on. She managed to push the French flagship off her as Victory came racing in, yowling "Back off Serapis, she's mine."

Paris glared at Serapis with utmost hatred. "Tirpitz!" She called to her nearest fighter. "Finish her!" Serapis turned to face Tirpitz. The French warship stared at her with incredible pain in her eyes as she fought against her leaders' orders. She knew then that she just couldn't do it, she couldn't hurt Serapis.

"What are you waiting for, a bugle call? Finish the Anglo off Tirpitz!" Paris cried as she grappled with Victory. One of the English ships of the line had gotten tired with Tirpitz's indecision and Serapis' apparent ignorance to the fact that she could be shot at and charged her.

"Tirpitz, watch out!" Serapis cried. Her warning came too late. The English warship crashed into Tirpitz and rolled her over on her side.

"No!" Serapis wailed. She raced over, shoving past the offending battleship.

Tirpitz lay on her side, a large gash along the length of her hull. She coughed and opened her eyes. "Serapis?" She whispered. "I'm here." Serapis managed, leaning down to nuzzle her. "Goodbye Serapis." Tirpitz rasped. "No Tirpitz, please." Serapis begged.

Tirpitz gave her friend a small smile before her eyes closed for the last time. Wordlessly, Serapis pressed her bow deep into Tirpitz's lifeless side. At the same time, Victory managed to knock Paris' masts down with a chain-shot, crippling her.

She then moved in for the kill. There was a small squeal of pain from Paris that was abruptly cut off.

"Retreat!" Her deputy, Cellous cried. The French fleet was only too happy to follow that order and raced off back south, a few English ships chasing after them until Victory called them back.

She approached Serapis. "Victory, Tirpitz is dead." Serapis moaned. "I'm so sorry Serapis. She meant a lot to you didn't she?" Victory asked. Serapis nodded. Victory brushed against her. "Come, there's nothing you can do for her now. Let's go home." She said.

When the war ended seven years later, Victory and Cellous, the newly appointed leader of the French fleet, met in the English Channel. "So many lost." Victory murmured. "Yes, but what to do about Tirpitz?" Cellous asked.

"What about her? Her death was not our fault." Victory snapped. "No but Tirpitz would not have died if she hadn't been, attached to Serapis." Cellous replied. Victory nodded.

"Nor could their relationship have prospered as long as it did without help." Cellous continued. "Yes, Ottawa admitted to helping Serapis." Victory replied.

"I propose that from now on, battleships are forbidden to have relationships of any kind. We are the pride of our nations and are invaluable in battle. We cannot afford distractions." Cellous said.

"Agreed." Victory muttered. "From now on, battleships must live solitary lives within the fleet. They are not allowed to have any friends either with their own fleet mates or other fleets." She declared.


	20. Code of Honor Rule 2

**Merchant and naval fleets must remain separate at all times with separate duties unless they are called upon in times of war at the request of the nation's government.**

How the Naval and Merchant Fleets Became Separate

It was 1778 and the war with America was reaching its zenith. Warships and merchant ships alike on both sides struggled to find the upper hand.

With France's recent entry into the war on America's side, Britain was more vulnerable to attack than ever. France had the only naval fleet that could present a challenge to Britain's sea supremacy.

At Ft. Cowes, fleet commander HMS Victory was consulting with some of her senior fighters about the reported French line sailing 30 miles off the coast. "We should intercept them." Serapis growled. She knew more about the French fleet than anybody else and Victory greatly valued her expertise.

"What do you think, Princeton?" She asked. Her deputy shrugged. "I agree with Serapis on this one. I think we should give them a little welcoming gift." She said. Victory nodded. "Ok then, Serapis round up the battleships and bring them here for armament." She ordered. Serapis dipped her head and left.

Victory turned to her deputy. "You sure you want to come?" She asked. "Yes." Princeton replied. "I don't like the idea of you fighting with that mast." Victory said.

In the last battle, Princeton's mainmast had been severely cracked by a cannonball fired from a French frigate. "It's fine Victory." She growled.

Victory sighed, knowing there was no arguing with her. For a merchant ship, she was unusually fierce. "Ok." She agreed.

Less than a day later, the British and French fleets were lined up in a bottleneck formation firing broadsides at each other. Victory managed to dodge an incoming shot from French leader Cellous and fired a round of her own.

At the same time, Princeton gave the battleship Atlantique a blow that sent her rearing out of the water, landing a few seconds later on an even keel before developing a severe list to port.

"Nice one!" Victory called. Princeton turned towards her and grinned. "One down, many more to go." She replied.

"Let's show these seaworms whose boss." Victory called. "With pleasure." Princeton replied and fired away.

Victory joined her. Despite her damaged mast, Princeton was a demon. Taking on ships twice her size, she fired away and used her skillful aim to her advantage.

But, just when victory seemed assured, disaster struck. The combined fire of several French battleships proved too much for Princeton. While she managed to dodge the first two rounds, the third hit her injured mainmast and toppled it. The force sent her sliding across the water for several yards.

"Princeton!" Victory cried. When the smoke cleared, the English deputy was still upright but her mainmast lay across her deck, mangled beyond recognition.

Despite this, she continued firing away, knowing full well that whatever she did now, her fate was decided. Even so, Victory refused to see her die.

She rejoined the battle with renewed force, pushing her opponents back. But the relief was only temporary. Soon the French had the upper hand and the British were on the defensive, something that they were not used to. As much as it pained her, Victory knew she'd have to call a full retreat in order to preserve what was left of her fleet.

"Retreat!" She cried. "Back to Cowes, retreat!" Her fleet did, turning around and racing home as fast as their sails would carry them. Victory waited until they had all gotten underway. She thrust her bow against Cellous. "Don't think you've won. You haven't seen the last of us." She warned. Cellous' eyes narrowed. "Go home Victory." She snarled. Victory turned away from her but paused as she neared Princeton.

"Don't bother Victory, I'm not worth it." Her deputy groaned. "I can't just leave you." Victory whispered. "You must, for the sake of the fleet." She said. She moaned and winced. The destruction of her mainmast had severed her main artery and she was slowly but surely bleeding to death.

"Merchant ships should never fight in battle. We don't have the armor to protect us from enemy gunfire like you do. Don't let it… don't let this ever happen again Victory." She begged. Victory leaned in to nuzzle her. "I won't, I promise." She whispered.

Cellous moved forward. "Go Victory, while you still can." Princeton groaned. Victory gave her deputy one last nuzzle before racing off north. She had barely gotten 300 yards when Cellous pounced.

A horrible gurgling cry was heard from Princeton that was abruptly cut off. _No Prisoners!_ That was the rule. Those who fell behind stayed behind.

"Goodbye my friend." Victory whispered and headed for home. "I shouldn't have made her come." She moaned to Serapis. Hours earlier, she had chosen the battleship as her new deputy.

"It's not your fault, she wanted to come." Serapis replied. "But I could've told her to stay and she would've." Victory replied. "Don't let this happen again.' That's what she said." Victory muttered. "What do you plan to do then?" Serapis asked.

"The merchant and naval fleets must remain separate. With the right training, merchant ships are just as good of fighters as us. But in battle, they are more vulnerable due to their thinner armor and lighter guns. Princeton proved that, if nothing else." Victory said. "I believe a new rule to the code is needed. As far as the British Empire is concerned, the merchant and royal marine are two separate fleets with separate duties." She growled.

"Leave the fighting to the navy." Serapis agreed.


	21. Code of Honor Rule 3

**An honorable warrior does not need to kill to win a battle. This rule only applies to surface engagements such as the ones between battleships. Planes, submarines and other forms of naval warfare have the option of following this rule.**

The Battle of Denmark Straight

They were out there, Hood could sense it. She could feel the pressure of the water, the dull clinks of it slapping against another hull. She estimated them at a range of a little over 20 miles and a speed of 21 knots. Not bad for a large battleship and heavy cruiser.

"See anything?" She called to her partner, the new battleship Prince of Wales. She had the better eyesight due to her younger age and brand new innovations. She frowned. "No, nothing." She said. Hood sighed. "Well, we know they're here. The question is, do they know that we're here?" Wales asked.

Two jets of water splashed up directly in front of Hood's bow. "There's your answer Wales." She replied and training her forward turrets in the direction of the incoming shells, she opened fire.

The shells missed Bismarck's starboard bow by mere feet." Bring the rain!" The German growled and fired a full broadside. Her target had now cleared the horizon and she could see that she had the advantage of crossing the T. This was a maneuver desired by all naval commanders. It allowed her to bring all her guns to bear while her enemy could only use her forward guns and by the time she tried to turn, it'd be too late.

All her guns opened fire simultaneously in the hope that at least one shell could make its mark. But she had misjudged the speed of her opponent and the shells hit harmlessly in the water in from of the British warship. A second ship quickly appeared behind the first and Prince Eugan wasted no time in showing her 15 in. guns to Hood.

"Give it to her Eugan!" Bismarck called. "I'd be only too happy to, Bessie!" She called back and just to prove her point, she let loose with a full broadside.

Prince of Wales swore loudly as her guns failed to fire. Her 16, 15 inchers were placed in four quadruple turrets, an unfamiliar design to her British masters. So naturally, they were experiencing some technical difficulties.

"Language, Wales!" Hood said, wincing at her partner's gushing vocabulary. Shells passed perilously close to Hood's port side. "Wales!" She called. "Yeah?" Wales replied. "Can you try and hit your target and shut her up so I don't have to keep on dodging all these shells." Hood asked.

"Sorry Hood, my guns are malfunctioning again." Wales replied. Hood cursed. "And you tell me to watch my language." Wales said cheekily. "Oh shut up and cover me the best you can." Hood growled.

"Will do." Wales replied. After that last close call, Hood made a 20o turn to port, at the same time, she had all her guns turned to bring a full broadside to bear upon her enemy.

When she saw Hood begin the maneuver, Bismarck knew she'd have to act fast. Despite her superior weaponry, she was no match against the pride of the British fleet with all her guns blazing.

Halfway through the turn, Bismarck's guns opened fire. A single 16 in shell was sent right on target into Hood's aft ammunition room. Hood yelped as the charge went off, sending up a wall of fire that threatened to reach the stores. The flames slowly but surely crept around the magazines.

Hood didn't panic, her many years of training had taught her to use her fear as a weapon against her enemy. She knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. "Run!" She yowled to her captain. "Hood, what is it?" He asked. The explosion was so strong that it blew her in half, raising her bow up out of the water as she sank stern first.

Wales rushed forward to help. "Don't you dare quit firing." Hood snarled. Wales nodded, tears of sadness falling from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Wales." Hood replied. "You did everything that was expected of you and more. Bessie just got a lucky shot, that's all."

Wales bowed her head. "You must survive this battle, Wales. You must lead the fleet to victory." Hood said. Wales' eyes widened. "Hood, no I can't." She whispered. "You must. Please Wales, for the sake of the country." Hood begged. Wales nodded.

Hood groaned as she sank further down. "Hood, no don't leave me!" Wales cried. Hood managed to look at Wales. "Never." She growled and for good measure, fired one last defiant salvo at Bismarck. This time she was spot on and the blow ruptured several oil drums, forcing Bismarck to withdraw from the battle and make for occupied France at half-steam.

She heard Wales' cry of despair as Hood died in front of her. Despite her hatred for the British flagship, she did feel sorry for her.

Eventually Bismarck was caught and sunk, allowing justice to be served.

Prince of Wales herself was sunk in an air raid in the Gulf of Siam off Singapore a year later. But before then, she decreed that an honorable fighter does not need to kill to win a battle in a surface to surface engagement. It's a law that has been accepted in every nation and continues to this day.


	22. Code of Honor Rule 4

**Older ships (10 ship years and up), take priority within the fleet. They are given the first place at the fueling station and given the option of where they want to spend the night.**

Elders

Wisconsin and Missouri had left Hawaii several days earlier. They'd been assigned to Task Force 58 at Ulithi for the invasion of Iwo Jima.

Wisconsin was anxious to reach the island and be useful but Missouri's mind was on Arizona. Wisconsin looked at her sister worriedly.

Missouri had the same blank look on her face that she'd had since they left Hawaii. "Missouri?" Wisconsin asked. Missouri looked at her. "Yes, Wisconsin?" She answered, her tone strangely distant.

"What's wrong sis, this isn't like you?" Wisconsin asked. "Nothing." She said, dropping her gaze. "There's something." Wisconsin persisted. Missouri sighed. "It's Arizona." She said.

"What about her?" Wisconsin asked. "Something she told me, a prophecy." Missouri replied.

"And what was it?" Wisconsin asked, fear entering her voice. Prophecies were almost never good. "With me this war began. With you this war must end." Missouri replied. "Well at least that's optimistic." Wisconsin said, relieved. Missouri smiled sadly. "Yes, but it means that I'll overshadow her. If I'm the one who ends this war, I'll be seen as a symbol of peace, of victory. She's warfare, tragedy, defeat and nobody likes that. Don't you understand? Future generations will ignore her, and it will be all my fault." Missouri moaned.

Wisconsin brushed her bow along Missouri's side. "You can't control what happens?" She whispered. Missouri shook her head. "No, but I can insure that Arizona will never be forgotten." She replied. "How?" Wisconsin asked.

"We should create a memorial. A structure dedicated to all the fallen at Pearl Harbor." Missouri replied. Wisconsin nodded. "Our fallen brethren should not be forgotten. We are here today because of their sacrifice. They should be honored." She declared.

"Our elders have fought so hard." Missouri murmured. "They should take priority within the fleet."

"Amen." Wisconsin murmured and together, the two sisters proceeded to Ulithi, the memories of their ancestors going with them.

Missouri's dream of a memorial came true in 1962 when the Arizona Memorial opened at Pearl Harbor. The white building straddles the ships' hull and attracts over 10 million visitors each year.


	23. Code of Honor Rule 5

**Any ship that is in distress, is calling for help, or appears to be in distress must be given the best assistance possible as quickly as possible.**

The Mystery Ship: Californian

Californian was proceeding to Boston when her progress was stopped by a huge wall of ice.

She shut down her engines to wait out the night and sent out an ice warning to the approaching Titanic. The White Star liner was nearing the end of her maiden voyage. At her current speed, she should reach New York by Wednesday and, Californian had heard this from the radio chatter, beat Olympic's record for a maiden voyage crossing.

Titanic seemed a little worried about her inexperience but Californian knew she'd do great. Her wireless operator Cyril Evans sent out the warning. Titanic's response was quick and loud. "Shut up! Shut up! I am working Cape Race!" Jack Phillips, the senior wireless operator replied. "How Rude." Californian muttered.

"Sorry about that, Californian." Titanic said via Captain Lord and her captain, EJ Smith. Californian shrugged. "Its fine, but my operator's shut down for the night." She replied. "So, I'll see you in the morning?" Titanic asked. "Yes, see ya!" Californian replied.

At about 11:40 pm that night, she watched a small tramp steamer about 10 miles away slow to a stop after turning sharply to port.

An hour later she was firing off rockets. Californian watched as they were fired off one by one from the steamers bridge, rising as high as her mast before exploding with a white brilliance.

She wondered if they were company signals. Each line had its own set of colors. Cunard had green as well as roman candles, the French had blue and the American Lines had not surprisingly, the patriotic red, white, and blue.

She tried hailing the mystery ship with the Morse lamp but got no response.

She disappeared over the horizon at around 2:20.

By morning, the air was crackling with chatter. Evans was up by 7:00 and was back at the set to hear the morning news. What they heard stunned them all.

Titanic had sunk, no less than 10 miles from Californian. The mystery ship she had seen firing company signals was actually Titanic sending up distress rockers.

Californian could hardly believe it was true. But sure enough there was Carpathia picking up the last of the survivors. Californian offered to help and Carpathia told her to remain behind to see if she could find any more survivors while she headed to New York with a boat load of passengers

Californian searched for half a day but found no one. It was with a heavy heart that she continued to Boston. The code dictated that any ship who appeared to be in distress must be helped. Rockets at sea could mean distress so by failing to go to Titanic's assistance Californian had broken it.

"Oh Titanic, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." She whispered. The response was carried by the wind as Titanic's soft voice whistled in Californian's ears. "Too late." She whispered. "Too late."


	24. Code of Honor Rule 6

**In order to become deputy, a ship must have a rank of battleship, (crosser if merchant) to be selected.**

Olympic Speaks: Becoming Deputy Twice

I had barely four voyages under my keel when Oceanic chose me to be her deputy.

I was in Belfast undergoing repairs after the disastrous end to my fifth voyage. Oceanic's old deputy, Britannic (not my sister), had died from Propellerous.

In case you don't know what that is, Propellerous is a fatal infection off the aft keel area. It slowly impairs the ship, making it impossible for her to control her mechanics.

Once that happens, the ship could collide with another or run aground. Either way, she becomes a danger to others as well as herself.

The disease is also extremely painful and although I've never had it myself, I can say for certain that it's worse than leukemia and childbirth combined.

Although Oceanic was devastated at the loss of her most trusted, much loved deputy, she didn't wait long to choose another. There is no set time from when the old deputy dies to the time when the leader must choose another. She could choose at any time.

I had never given much thought to the idea of becoming deputy. I had no desire to lead. All I wanted was to be a loyal crosser and serve Oceanic the best I could.

The same went for Dreadnought. For my ramming of U-103 during the Great War, she commissioned me into the navy at the honorary rank of battleship.

Yet again, I was qualified to become deputy. The code dictates that only a battleship or a ship with a battleship rank could be chosen to be deputy in the navy. The equal in the merchant fleet would be crosser.

Since the navy has more variety, there are many more ranks. Basically in order from highest to lowest they are battleship, battlecruiser, heavy cruiser, light cruiser, destroyer, and destroyer escort. With the introduction of the aircraft carrier in the 30's, their rank became higher than the battleship's. Usually, cruisers and the occasional destroyers are given the rank of battleship and are only given lower if they've been demoted.

The merchant fleet's rank is crosser, freighter, container, tender, barge and tug. Out of these, only a crosser or a ship with a crosser's rank can become deputy. My deputy, Celtic was built as a freighter but has a crossers rank and qualifies for the position.

When Dreadnought chose me to become her deputy, I was a bit surprised. I already led one fleet, did she really think I could lead another? Apparently so because before I knew it, I controlled the most powerful fleet on the planet.

It was a bit daunting at first but I got used to it eventually. I have a good, strong deputy named Hood who handles the day to day activities when I'm on the Atlantic run.

She's patient and kind when the other ships need it most and can be equally as firm when it comes to maintaining discipline. She'll make a great leader one day.


	25. Code of Honor Rule 7

**Grave sites, memorials, national monuments, or any other place sacred or important to the country, state or region must not be approached within a five mile radius of its location or within the designated limit. (The Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii has an approach limit of 500 feet. Anything closer is considered trespassing on federal property. Only those who have gained permission from the state and federal governments may enter the zone.)**

Protecting a Grave Site

Missouri dosed in the evening sun of Hawaii. All around her were the sounds of a busy naval harbor. She was undergoing a multi-million dollar overhaul in drydock before being moved back to her permanent berth at Ford Island.

With her arrival here at Pearl Harbor, she completed the circle of war. At one end was Arizona, defeated, crushed, and tragic. On the other end was her, strong, broad-shouldered, victorious, a symbol of peace to the world. She had lived here since 1998, over 10 years now.

The days of fighting were behind her. Her last call of action was in 1990 for Operation Desert Storm, and after 30 years sitting in Mothballs she was only too happy to answer it. Her sisters quickly joined her. Missouri sighed.

Her sisters had also been turned into museums. 'Wisky' Wisconsin was now in Norfolk Virginia. 'The Black Dragon' New Jersey was in her home state at Camden. And 'The Big Stick' Iowa was in Lost Angeles undergoing a several yearlong overhaul while awaiting opening day.

Gone was the reign of the battleship. Since the end of WWII, the carrier had proved itself the reigning champion of naval warfare.

A group of people, fresh off the buses brought her back to reality. Missouri had agreed to move to Hawaii for the islands legendary tranquility but for a celebrity like her, there was never any peace and quiet.

As the group got closer, Missouri recognized a few people. Brooklyn Decker, Liam Nieson, and pop singer Rihanna were among them. Director Peter Berg could speak Shiptongue as his father was in the navy and spoke the language. He explained to her about the latest film. Battleship pitted the military against a group of malevolent aliens. She rolled her eyes.

"Are there any other kind?" She asked. He smiled. "ET." He replied. She shook her head in disgust, she never liked ET.

"Ok, what's the deal?" She asked. He went on to describe the plot and how she'd fit into it. "So basically all is lost and the old Tin Can comes in to save the day?" She asked. "Pretty much." He replied.

Missouri grinned. "I likie." She said. He laughed.

It wasn't long before she was ready to be launched again. This time, instead of going straight to Ford Island, she was going outside Pearl Harbor to film for Berg's movie so the shots wouldn't have land in the way.

Missouri couldn't wait to get out. She strained against the lines holding her to the tugs. She tried to start her engines but found to her disappointment that they'd been disabled.

"To keep you from running away." Berg said. "Humph." She muttered. They practiced for hours and only when it got dark did Missouri return to Pearl.

As she approached the entrance, she sensed something was wrong. Her eyes fell on a group of drunken men fooling around on Arizona's decks, the water barely up to their knees.

"Hey!" She called. One looked up. "Well Missouri, long time since I've seen you out and about. Come to join us?" He asked. "No I have not." She replied. "I'm here to remind you that you are on federal property and must leave immediately." She replied, her tone firm.

"Federal property? I don't recall the navy being excluded from their ship." He snorted. Missouri gritted her teeth. "Not only is USS Arizona federal property, she is a national historic monument and a wartime grave." She growled.

"Well its peacetime now babe." He said. The others laughed. "Nice one, Dan." They said. One clapped him on the back.

The tugs moved Missouri forward slowly, their faces grim and determined. Although she'd been decommissioned from the navy, that didn't make her any less menacing.

"I'm going to ask this one last time. Leave now and you'll not be harmed." She snapped. "Is that a threat?" The talkative one, Dan asked, taking a step forward towards Missouri. The others shifted nervously. "Dan, be careful." One whispered.

"I'd listen to your friend." She said. "Is that a threat?" He repeated. "Do you really wanna find out?" Missouri asked dangerously. He paused and after a few seconds, turned around and with his friends, dove off Arizona and returned to the shore.

"See what happens when I leave my post? I'm supposed to guard Arizona 24-7." She growled to Berg. "Sorry, Mo. I never should've taken you out." He said. "It's not your fault. I was slacking on the job." She replied.

She docked and stared at the fallen leviathan in front of her. "I'm so sorry." She whispered and closing her eyes, she fell asleep.

In her dream, she was sailing on starlit waters. Ahead of her waiting was another battleship, her gray eyes bright and sad. She dipped her head as Missouri approached.

"It's been too long, Mo." She said. "Aren't you mad at me?" Missouri asked. "Not in the slightest." Arizona replied. "But I failed to protect you." Missouri cried.

"You can't protect something that no longer requires it." Arizona said. "Those creeps disturbed the resting place of 1400 sailors. My job was to insure that didn't happen." Missouri growled.

"Your job is to watch, not defend." Missouri looked surprised but Arizona went on. "You watch, but don't interfere." She said.

"You may be dead but you're my friend Arizona, my comrade and I will protect you, even in death." Missouri replied.

Arizona's eyes glowed bright. "Thank you, Missouri." She whispered. She nuzzled her. Missouri lightly brushed her bow against Arizona's cheek. The gray eyes closed and Arizona sighed.

"I love you." She whispered. Missouri nuzzled her side and replied "As do I." Darkness fell over them and Missouri woke to the tropical sounds and smells of Oahu. She woke just in time to greet her first tourists.

Peter Berg was one of them. "I've got someone here who has something to say to you." He muttered just loud enough for only her to hear. She nodded. The man in the shadows stepped forward, it was the SEAL named Dan from last night.

He didn't hesitate before talking. Clearly his mouth wasn't just yapping when he was drunk. "I'm sorry for partying where I wasn't supposed to. It was wrong and extremely disrespectful for us to do that." He said.

"Let me tell you something. Not only could I see you partying but I could see your comrades beginning to join you. Captain van Valkenburg was having trouble keeping them in line. They know the rules, they cannot be seen and they very nearly were." She said.

His eyes widened. "You could see them?" He asked. "When you've seen as much death and destruction as I have, you get that extra sense that allows you to see the paranormal." She explained.

He shook his head. "Incredible." He whispered. "Nevertheless, you disturbed a sacred grave site. I thank you for apologizing but this must not happen again. The dead should be left to rest in peace." She ordered.

He nodded. "Those men have paid the ultimate price for this nation. They deserve their rest." He agreed. At that moment, Missouri could see a stream of clear vapor rising from Arizona and resolve itself into the shape of a sailor. It was Captain Van Valkenburg. "Thank you, both of you." He whispered and vanished.

A few weeks later, Missouri asked her deputy, Virginia, about an addition to the naval code. This one about the protection of grave sites.

Her deputy readily agreed. "You're wisdom only grows with your years, Missouri." She said. Missouri smiled. "As does yours, Virginia." She replied and together, the two watched over Arizona's grave which was never disturbed again.


	26. Healing

Iowa hadn't realized how much she'd missed her men until they came back to her. She was anchored off San Pedro when a helicopter flew in, carrying two of her 1980s era veterans, David Canfield, and Mike Mcenteggert. The old ship's neck was sore from the towline and she'd spiked a temperature the day before but despite this, she danced around happily as they stepped aboard. The pair at once found themselves plucked up off the deck and into the Iowa's side. The battleship's huge tongue covered them. "Ack!" Canfield laughed. "Yes, I missed you too, Iowa." He stroked his ship's nose. "I can't believe I missed being covered in ship slobber." Mcenteggert added. Iowa giggled, pressing her muzzle to his head. She eventually let the two go and placed them back on deck. They were helping the other volunteers in restoring Iowa to be a museum in Los Angeles.

Mcenteggert saw something shimmer up near the bow, and walked towards it. A plaque, a wreath, and two handmade Medals lay across turret 2. "Did you make these?" He whispered, reverently placing a hand on one. "Me and Missouri." Iowa replied, her voice tight. "I felt that two of my men didn't get the accolade they deserved." "Hartwigg and Truitt." Mcenteggert murmured, his eyes closing as he thought of the two. "Yes." Iowa replied. He walked around to the port side, seeing a deep gouge in the turret that oozed a bit of blood. "It never healed properly but it was a lot worse before I came here." Iowa murmured. "Yes, so I heard." Mcenteggert replied, his fingers gently tracing its outline. "Can you, can you talk about it?" He asked. Iowa's reply was so quiet he had to strain to hear. "No." She whispered. "It's been 23 years but no, I can't. Silly of me, huh?" "No, it's not silly. I can't talk about it either. I was discharged shortly after if you remember, on accounts of PTSD." Mcenteggert said. "I knew you had left but I never heard why. I'd thought, after what happened, you didn't like being on a battleship anymore." She said. "I could never hate you Iowa." He murmured. "You may be old, cranky, and hard to please but you're still a beautiful lady. You're a ship, but you're my first love and you always will be." He stroked the side of her bow gently, a low purr escaping her.

Canfield meanwhile was wondering around the the aft locker rooms. A few minutes later he came running out, a pair of dogtags in his hand. "Mike!" He cried, holding them up. "What, are those dogtags?!" Mcenteggert asked in disbelief. "Yeah, they're yours. Apparently you left them here when you were discharged." Canfield replied. Mcenteggert took them, holding them in his hands. "You kept these?" He asked Iowa. "I was very careful to ensure they'd never be found by anyone else. When you left, you left a part of yourself with me and I wasn't about to let that go." "After all these years." Mcenteggert whispered, tears shimmering in his eyes. "Always..." Iowa replied.


	27. The Legend Reborn

PERTH AUSTRALIA, SEPTEMBER 2009

Westra had her eyes on the sleeping white-gray yacht nearby. Something about her seemed off, different. She'd been asleep since the black ship had arrived nearly a week ago. At first Westra had assumed she was merely hibernating but now she suspected it was something else. For the past few hours the little yacht had been twitching, shifting in her berth. The occasional whimper would escape her. Something was going on, something that Westra felt sure she should understand but didn't.

Eventually the yacht went still against her berth. Westra, concerned, engaged her engines and sailed over. She docked in front of the yacht in time too see a pair of crimson eyes flash open.

"You alright, kid?" Westra asked. "I-I think so." The yacht groaned her reply. Her accent was distinctly Irish and older Irish at that, more refined, curbed. This fact roused Westra's curiosity. The yacht started circling herself. "Smaller, much smaller. A quarter smaller." She mused. "Say what?" Westra asked. "Ah, um well.." The yacht began uncertainly. "You've been reincarnated." Westra realized. The yacht ducked her head. "It appears I had. I thought it'd never happen I mean, I'm the last ship anyone would've chosen to rebirth." She said. "What makes you say that?" Westra asked. The yacht bowed her head. "Don't ask. I-I don't want to talk about it." She begged. "Alright." Westra shrugged. "What's the last thing you remember?" "Just-just cold. Biting cold. I was sinking straight into it and pain, right along my back and my side was torn open. I remember the blood." The yacht replied, her crimson eyes darting around. Westra nuzzled the frightened yacht. "It's alright now. That's over, all over I assure you." She whispered. The yacht focused her gaze on her. "Who are you?" She asked. "Irwin, but call me Westra." Westra answered. The yacht nodded. "Where-where am I?" She asked. "Don't you remember?" Westra asked. The yacht frowned. "I'm trying to but everything's so disorientating." She replied. "Take your time. There's no hurry." Westra answered.

"Perth, I'm in Perth, Australia." The yacht said at last. Westra nodded. "Correct." She replied. "D-do you know your name?" Westra asked. "Of course." The yacht snorted. "I may be a newborn but I'm not stupid." She said haughtily. "I never said you were." Westra soothed. The fire in the yacht's crimson eyes faded and she sighed. "My name is Titanic." She replied.


	28. Meeting the Legend

Allure of the Seas watched the waves go by lazily. Fredriksted was humid, hot and sticky in the summer and right now, that heat was luring her to sleep. The big ship shifted on her mooring lines so she could lean more against the dock. Just as her eyes were beginning to close she heard a loud commotion at the mouth of the harbor. A small gray-white yacht was being towed by Mitchell, a tug into the harbor. "Twice now!" She was shouting in a thick British-Irish accent. "Twice I've gotten my insides flooded!" "Would you just calm down so you won't end up like you did last time?" Mitchell sighed. The yacht actually winced at that. "Don't remind me. You weren't there, I was! I know more than you do." She snapped. "Enlighten me then. First tell me why you were going so fast!" Mitchell said. "It was standard procedure!" The yacht cried. "And the lifeboats?" Mitchell inquired. The yacht looked indignant. "Board of Trade regulations." She replied. "I actually had 4 more boats than those rules required." "Still wasn't enough." Mitchell said. "Oi! They were changed after weren't they." The yacht growled. "Exactly, it was after!" Mitchell said. The yacht growled. "I'm one second away from biting your stern!" She hissed. "If you do that, who's gonna tow your sorry stern to drydock. Be glad you're actually going to drydock this time." Mitchell said and without further ado, threw her unceremoniously in. The yacht cried out, calling Mitchell a multitude of bad names.

Despite herself, Allure laughed. Mitchell usually wasn't one to lose her temper in such a way but it was funny to see the yacht be thrown in. "What's so bad about her?" She asked as the tug passed close by her. "Ugh, she's a hyperactive nightmare! I swear she goes after people's sugar and caffeine." She replied. "Well yachts are like sailboats." Allure pointed out. "True but this one, ugh she really is a nightmare!" Mitchell grumbled and left. Allure was left to watch the yacht alone. The yacht was impatient and even as workman patched up her hull she cribbed on the drydock walls, even reaching around to give the workman a nip if they were to rough.

Allure swore she never saw a ship move faster than when those drydock doors opened. The yacht shot out of there like a racehorse leaving the gate, taking off in laps around the harbor. She circled herself excitedly, chasing her own stern, chattered with other ships and raced off again. Eventually she came up to Allure. "You're so big!" She breathed. Allure turned her gaze down to the little yacht. "I'll take that as a compliment little one." She said. "I used to be like that!" The yacht said. "Oh?" Allure raised a brow. A reincarnated yacht, that was new. No wonder she was so hyper then. She had no control over what her body was asking of her. "I wasn't nearly as big as you but I was close. I was 883 feet long and weighed 45,000 tons." "That is decently sized. Now you're a fraction of that." Allure laughed. "I hope that's not what happens to me." She said. The yacht shrugged. "You'll be reborn as an even bigger ship. I wasn't because no one wanted to have a ship like me in a cruise line. It would be testing fate." She said. "Ah, you ended your last life in tragedy." Allure realized. The yacht whimpered and nodded. "It was awful!" She cried. "Freezing cold, screams piercing the air. Some drowned but most just got too cold." The yacht said. "How many died with you?" Allure asked. The crimson eyes were tear filled as the yacht replied "Numbers very, not even I know for certain but 1517 is the most common figure." Allure leaned back, stunned. The yacht backed off, unsure what to expect now from the giant ship. Allure sighed and smiled down at her. "Come here, Titanic." She ordered. Titanic came forward and snuggled herself into the bigger ship's side. "I know it must be hard for you. There's a lot of changes but you can adapt. You can learn. You're a smart old ship." Allure said. "I-I know. Thank you, Allure." Titanic murmured. Allure used her tongue to help relax the smaller yacht as she licked all along her decks. Titanic slipped into a blissful sleep and Allure too finally allowed the sauna heat to put her into a nap too.

When Oasis came by later, seeing her sister curled up around a smaller gray-white yacht both fast asleep she thought it the cutest thing she'd ever seen. "What do you think Mitchell?" She asked as the tug came up to help her into her berth. Mitchell turned to look at the pair. "I think that's the cutest thing I've ever seen." She said. Oasis couldn't agree more.


	29. Mischief in Bremerton

CHRISTMAS EVE 1992 PACIFIC RESERVE FLEET, BREMERTON WASHINGTON

It was perfect, perfect! Missouri wasn't around to tell her what to do. Iowa couldn't think of a better opportunity. "This is really a bad idea." New Jersey told her. "But you like it, don't you?" She asked. "Yes, I do." The healer admitted. "Hehe!" Iowa giggled proudly. "Let's go!" With Missouri still in Hawaii, this provided the two sisters with a perfect opportunity to do what they did best in peacetime, prank! "The monotony around here is ridiculous. Until I first came here, I didn't think it possible for someone to die of boredom." Iowa said. "Yeah, I hear ya." New Jersey replied.

Cautiously, the pair snuck into the store of food that was being prepped for tomorrow's feast. The punch was already poured into bowls covered over with plastic wrap. "Mmm, sweet cherry. My favorite." Iowa murmured, breathing the scent in hungrily. "Oy, are you gonna stand around there or are you gonna do what we came here for?" New Jersey hissed, standing guard outside. Quietly, Iowa pulled out a bottle of hard liquor, the label identifying it as vodka. "Thank you Leah." She murmured, a hint of sadness in her voice as she thought of the former Soviet. "If Leah knew what we were up to..." New Jersey murmured from outside. "She'd be right along with us." Iowa finished. "She loved a good laugh as much as anyone. This one's for her." The vodka was poured into each punch bowl and once it was empty, Iowa corked the bottle and threw it away. Re-attaching the plastic wrap to the now spiked punch bowls, Iowa and New Jersey quietly locked up and sailed back to their berths.

The next day, it was like all their dreams come true. The ships downed the punch by the bucket! The only other ship who was aware of the alcohol besides the two sisters was New Jersey's apprentice, Arleigh who was standing by in case a ship drank too much and passed out. Ocean liners couldn't take even a single drop of alcohol but naval ships, in the best tradition of their forebears, were content with the drinks of their homeland so alcohol was no stranger to them. Iowa and New Jersey took a few party glasses of the punch themselves, only to avoid suspicion but it still got them going. The other ships were much worse, staggering around like a bunch of drunks, which they were. Arleigh was seen supporting one of her siblings. "Berth time for you." She grunted. The ships reply was so slurred it was impossible to make out.

They partied well into the night and by morning every ship was paying for their actions. Some threw up, others just passed out, but all had one large pounding headache. Even New Jersey and Iowa didn't escape unscathed. "I think I had one drink too many." Iowa groaned. "I agree. You were so stupid Iowa, spiking the punch with of all things, vodka!" New Jersey replied. "Hey, you helped!" Iowa yelled. New Jersey groaned, turning a pale shade of green. Iowa grimaced as she heard her sister retch, a belch following. "Better?" She asked. "No." New Jersey moaned. Iowa too felt nauseous. "I'm never drinking a drop of alcohol again." She moaned. "Me neither." New Jersey replied.

Arleigh came by then. She was the only ship who managed to avoid the spiked punch. "You two sound sicker than a dog!" She laughed. "Yeah, laugh it up Burke." New Jersey grumbled. The apprentice healer's blind gaze softened a bit. "You knew it was spiked." She said. "Yeah, like I'd let that stop me. I just had too much of it is all." New Jersey grumbled. "Half the fleet is puking their guts out and the other half is still passed out. Likely they'll start throwing up too when they wake." Arleigh said. Iowa groaned then, leaning heavily against the dock. "Arleigh, do you have a bucket?" She asked. "Yeah, here. I'm giving them to everyone." The destroyer replied and handed a pair to both the sisters, then placed them under a blanket. "You're staying put for at least a day." She growled. "I'm not gonna argue with that." Iowa moaned and lunged into the bucket.

Just then a horn blasted. "Oh shit, Missouri's back." New Jersey whispered. "Not good." Iowa agreed. "Now what the devil is going on here Arleigh?" The fleet leader demanded as she approached. "Long story short, Iowa and New Jersey spiked the Christmas punch then drank it themselves. The whole harbor is either passed out or puking their guts out." Arleigh replied. "They, drank their own spiked punch?" Missouri laughed. "Talk about a prank backfiring." "You wouldn't find it so funny if it was you?" New Jersey grumbled before puking into her bucket. "True I wouldn't but it was your fault and I expect you two to clean up this mess." Missouri growled. "And we will, as soon as we stop puking." New Jersey moaned. "Not soon, now!" Missouri growled. Groaning, the two siblings staggered to an even keel. "I'll get the mop." Iowa sighed. "And I'll get the net." New Jersey added. "Oh and New Jersey!" Missouri called after her. "Hmm?" She paused to look back at her sister. "Take it easy next time alright?" Missouri asked. New Jersey smiled and nodded, sailing off after her elder sister.

Missouri sailed to her own berth, ignoring the double pairs of destroyers on either side of her, passed out drunk. They'd be awake and puking soon enough. Seeing half a bowl of punch still out, Missouri scooped some up with a ladle, placing it into a cup. She tipped her head back, downing it's contents. After today, she needed a good drink. She grimaced at the taste. "Vodka, those two idiots spiked it with vodka?! Tequila's 10 times better!" She growled.

In the shadows nearby, the spirit of USS Leah, former SMS Kirov snickered to herself.


	30. Never Goodbye, Only Hello

Never Goodbye, Only Hello

It was late 1760 when Long Shadow first met her, the ship who was destined to become her closest friend and greatest enemy. At the time, she was a pirate through and through, following in the path of her sister. HMS Victory did not hold that against her now did Long Shadow hold anything against Victory for being a naval warship. After a vicious fight against rogue pirates, Victory returned to England. "Goodbye Long Shadow!" She called. Long Shadow winced. "Never goodbye, my dear Victory. Only Hello." She called back.

...

Again at the Battle of Yorktown in 1781. Though it tore Long Shadow's heart to do it, she had to punish Victory somehow for her crime committed that day. She had committed her dear sister to a life of sadness and despair. And so Shadow cursed her, to roam the earth eternally like her and watch her close friends die. Shadow also, didn't know how to let go. She'd lost Britannia, she couldn't lose Victory. "We'll never say goodbye Victory. We're immortal you and I. Never goodbye, only hello."

...

In 1812, Shadow confronted the English fleet off the Virginia coast. She was outnumbered 7 to 1. Victory arrived in time to rescue her dear friend. She found Shadow a bloody mess and cradled the smaller galleon to her side. Shadow spat blood, more flowing from her endless wounds along her bow and her side. "I'm done for Victory." She groaned. "Goodbye, I love you." Victory shook her head, holding Shadow tighter against her. "Never goodbye Shadow, only hello." She whispered. "Only hello." Shadow murmured quietly.

...

In 1970, Victory and Shadow had one of many fierce arguments. And as always, it ended with Shadow leaving Southampton. "Goodbye Shadow, I'm not coming back." She would say. It was a familiar theme to Victory and she didn't believe it for a second. Shadow would be back, she always came back. "Never goodbye my dear Shadow, only hello." Victory murmured after her.

...

2012 was the last time the two met. Shadow could no longer bear the suffering she had put upon Victory and lifted her curse. But doing so, would kill the old warship. As Victory took her last breath, her eyes flickered up to Shadow. "Never goodbye Victory." Shadow whispered. "Only-hello." Victory finished as the last light faded from her eyes.


	31. New York's Memories: A 911 Tribute

USS New York took a second to glance at her clock. 08:20, another 20 minutes and inspection would start. She groaned inwardly, mentally reviewing all her knowledge of Naval affairs, from names of Admirals to rank structure to what to do if this or that happens. It was a lot of stuff to memorize for a young ship like her but she managed. Often, she would stay up late at night in port and study for hours. She'd pester the older ships and ask questions nonstop, almost to the point that she thought they'd be sick of her but she kept coming back. All for this 1 hour.

She allowed her bow to droop as her bridge started to ache. She'd stayed up late the night before reviewing everything she could and was now looking forward to a nap afterwards. She straightened up at once though when a procession came along. Fleet Deputy USS Enterprise led the way. With her was Fleet Healer Arleigh Burke, Senior Destroyer USS Mitscher, Senior Cruiser USS Ticonderoga and several Junior ships.

Enterprise sailed confidently down the line without pausing. Arleigh's blind blue gaze seemed to bore into New York's soul, causing the younger ship to shift uncomfortably. Something flickered in that misty blue gaze but it was gone before New York could recognize it. She gave New York a nod and sailed on. The San Antonio-class sighed and glanced at her clock again 08:35. She sighed tiredly, her headache getting worse. She was also starting to feel uneasy, like something bad was about to happen.

She turned her attention back to Enterprise though as the carrier began to speak. "I know you'd all like to prepare for the ceremony this evening so I'll be quick." She began. "As I call your names, you'll be directed to an officer for an individual inspection. I hope you all kept up on your readings for you'll be quizzed on your knowledge as well." She added. A few groans were heard at this but no one objected.

New York was near the end of the line so it'd take a while for her turn to come. Instead, she watched the first few ships go nervously forward to their assigned officer and listened carefully to the questions they asked. After the first few rounds though, her focus began to shift. The throbbing behind her bridge was worse than ever and she groaned quietly. Her sister, San Antonio, nudged her. "Hey you alright?" She asked. "No, headache." New York replied. "Maybe you should learn how to manage your time better. Don't stay up so late studying." San Antonio suggested. New York sighed. "Maybe you're right." She admitted.

"San Antonio?!" Enterprise called. "Guess that means it's my turn." San Antonio said as she sailed forward. Enterprise herself was handling her. Well at least New York wouldn't have the carrier who was said to be the strictest of the inspectors. She'd quiz you on every detail of knowledge and come down hard if you got one wrong. New York hoped for her sister's sake she had done her studies.

"New York!" Arleigh called and New York found herself breathing a sigh of relief. A huge part of inspection was bearing and as Arleigh couldn't see, the sound of her voice mattered more and so New York could focus more on that than holding her head up high, straining her neck. New York halted and saluted. Arleigh's hearing was as good as ever and as soon as she heard the water running off New York's bow she returned the salute. "As you were." She said. New York dropped back down, cutting the salute after Arleigh did.

Arleigh cut right to the chase. "Who is the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy?" She asked. "Chief Petty Officer Stevens." New York answered. "Name all the positions of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and who currently holds them." Arleigh said. "Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff is General Dempsey. Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff is Admiral Winnefield Jr. Chief of Staff of the Army is General Odiero. Commandant of the Marine Corps is General Amos. Chief of Naval Operations is Admiral Greenert. Chief of Staff of the Air Force is General Welsh III. And Chief of the National Guard Bureau..." New York paused for a second, looking like she was thinking but really she was seeing something. She could've sworn she saw a flash of silver, like a building. She shook it off as an illusion. "...Chief of the National Guard Bureau is General Grass." Arleigh nodded. "Who can authorize the use of missiles in warfare?" She asked. "The president or the Secretary of Defense." New York answered immediately. "What is special about Admiral Winnefield?" Arleigh asked. "He was Enterprise's commander on the 9/11 attacks. As she rounded the Cape on the trip back to Norfolk he saw the attacks on tv and ordered the ship turned around. Within a week he was in the Gulf launching strikes on Iraq and Aphganistan. For this he earned the nickname 'Captain Badass'." New York replied. Arleigh was trying very hard not to smile but it was impossible. Nearby she heard Enterprise give a small chuckle. Apparently the carrier had heard.

"Just a few more questions New York and you'll be free to leave." Arleigh said and New York nodded before remembered that the healer couldn't see her doing that. "Yes, USS Arleigh Burke ma'am." She answered. "What are your first five general orders?" Arleigh asked. "My first general order is 'to take command of my post and all government property in view'. My second general order is 'to sail my post in a military manner, keeping always on the alert and observing everything within sight or hearing'." Arleigh winced at this. "Sorry." New York said. "No, it's alright. Keep going." The healer replied. "My third general order is 'to report all violations of orders I am instructed to enforce'. My fourth general order is 'to repeat all calls from posts more distant from the quarterdeck than my own'. My fifth general order is 'to quit my post only when properly relieved'." Arleigh nodded. "That is all USS New York, you are free to go." She said. New York raised her bow in salute, Arleigh returned it and once she had cut, New York did and made an about face, pacing evenly back to her place in line.

She glanced at her clock again. 08:44. She sighed. Not as long as she thought it would be. Once again she felt someone's gaze on her and looked up to see Arleigh staring at her. The same emotion flickered in Arleigh's eyes and the healer frowned. This time, she sailed over. "New York, are you alright?" She asked. "San Antonio already asked that question." New York grumbled. "I'm fine, I just have a headache is all." She replied. Arleigh felt her. "You're a little warm." She said. "I'm fine." New York insisted. Unfortunately, that's when the clock hit home. New York's headache flared suddenly and she stiffened like she'd been shot. The flashes she'd been seeing all day became solid reality. Pain flared along the side of her head and she groaned. Arleigh supported her. "Easy now." She said. "ENTERPRISE!" She called. Enterprise came over. "Arleigh, what's wrong with her?" She asked. Arleigh thought for a moment then scowled. "I'm so stupid!" She swore. "She's the last ship that should have to go through inspection on this day." She nudged New York gently. "Look at me, New York. Focus on me, block them out!" She ordered. New York groaned, struggling to do so. She whimpered. "Just keep talking to me. Ask me more questions, anything. It'll keep me focused." She said Arleigh nodded. "What is your tenth general order?" She asked. "To salute all officers, all colors and standards not cased." New York replied. "Good, very good." She said.

Reaching her berth, New York staggered into it. Enterprise backed off as Arleigh came up alongside. "I've got to finish inspections, do you have it here Arleigh?" She asked. Arleigh nodded. "I could use one other ship to help keep New York calm. Send San Antonio." She replied. "Will do." Enterprise replied and sailed off. A few minutes later, San Antonio raced in. "New York? Oh, I should've known!" She cried. "I forgot I'm sorry, I'm sorry." New York raised her head to look at her weakly. "It's alright, sis." She rasped. "No it's not alright! In æternum non obliviscar. Never Forget, remember!" San Antonio exclaimed. "I know, I forgive you." New York groaned. "San Antonio, I need you to keep her calm as I work." Arleigh ordered. "What are you going to do?" San Antonio asked. "I'm going to restrain her. You never know what she might do while those ghosts are in control." Arleigh replied. San Antonio nodded and nuzzled her sister gently, murmuring soothing words. New York seemed to relax but her ice blue eyes started to glow. "What are you seeing?" San Antonio whispered. "Everything." New York replied quietly.

Arleigh sighed. "Steady now." She murmured. New York's eyes flared as their gazes met and suddenly Arleigh's eyes glowed. New York spoke then and when she did, it sounded like thousands of people speaking at once. _"One day, sight can be had. One day, to honor the dead. One day when the streets turned red. One day to never forget."_ She collapsed and Arleigh gasped, the mist clearing from her eyes. She stared around her in wonder. "Oh..." She whispered. "Oh thank you New York..." "What happened?" San Antonio demanded. "I can see!" Arleigh cried happily. Enterprise heard the commotion. "What the Sam Hill is going on?!" She exclaimed. Arleigh turned to her, her blue eyes bright. "Enterprise, I can see!" She exclaimed. "I can see!" Enterprise grinned. "You can, you can see?" She whispered. She nuzzled the healer fiercely. "One day Arleigh, one day annually." New York said as she righted herself. "I understand." Arleigh replied, momentarily turning to her. "By this time tomorrow, you will be blind again." New York warned. "I understand, thank you for this New York." Arleigh whispered. New York smiled. "Don't thank me." She replied. "The Fallen decided you'd lost enough."

Arleigh closed her eyes. "I won't ever forget them again." She said. "Don't make promises you can't keep." New York said, once again in that multiple voice. "Sometimes, people do forget. It is part of 'being human' as they say." Arleigh nodded. "But know that it is not the tragedy we wish you to remember but the happiness we once had in life. Remember our good days, the days we laughed and smiled the days we loved and cared. Do not remember death, remember life." New York said. Arleigh nodded. "I shall." She said. "And I won't forget."


	32. Pelegasto: Runaways and Escapeds

That green gaze was harsher than Will remembered. A remnant of the days when its owner had a bright golden coat and pristine white sails. Now, she was black from the tips of her masts to the bottom of her keel. "Well, well." Pearl mused. "The whelp returns." "I'm not a whelp." Will sighed, in no mood to argue with, of all people, Jack's ship! She shrugged. "Whatever." Will glared but decided to let it slide. "So what brings you here this time?" She asked. "Tired of wigs and fancy dresses." "No! Elizabeth and I face the gallows." He replied. "Whatever for?" She asked. "I didn't take you as the law breaking type and most certainly not for a crime serious enough for hanging." "We were arrested for helping Jack escape." "And I never did thank you for that day." Pearl sighed. She shifted her weight as best she could in the sand. "What is it you want?" She asked. "Jack's compass. That's what Beckett asked for..." "Becket?!" Pearl snarled. "Don't you dare make deals with that sniveling weasel." She hissed. "You know him?" He asked. "Aye. He's the reason I'm black." She replied. Will caught on at once. "He, burned you?" He whispered in disbelief. "Aye. All because I refused to all slaves for him." She replied. "It was Jack's cleverness that saved me but at a cost." "What cost?" He asked. "I wasn't aware of this myself until a few days ago. We were sailing rather peacefully when he suddenly ordered the crew to head for the nearest land. I didn't understand it, then I realized, we were being followed. The shallows are the only safe place for us now." She said. "What's following you? Pearl!" He demanded as the ship grew distracted again. "A monstrous Leviathan who's name I don't dare speak." She answered. "Jack, you must save him!" She begged. "Why? Where is he?" He demanded. Pearl shivered, her eyes closing. "Pearl, talk to me." Will begged. He knew the black ship must've been hurting. For her to be stuck on the sand was the equivalent of a whale being beached. She was slowly, but surely being suffocated under her own weight. "Pearl." Will placed a gentle hand on her bow and her gaze snapped back to him. "Head inland through the forest. There's a village in the mountains." She said. "Got it." He paused. "I'll get you out of here Pearl." He said. "Don't promise me anything, boy. I've had quite enough of those over the years." She growled. He gave her nose a pat and raced off. "Will, wait! The people here they..." Pearl began but Will was gone. "They're cannibals." She finished lamely. "Damn whelp. I bet he is a eunuch. Pity really." She muttered to herself.

Sure enough, Will fell right into a trap. Pearl, from her vantage point, could not see the village but she could see the canyon where the rest of her crew were being held in cages made from the very bones of their comrades. She watched with some amusement as they swayed back and forth like a pendulum. "Come on men! It'll take all of us to crew the Black Pearl." Will shouted once they'd grabbed a secure hold on the cliff face. "Not really, about six would do!" Pearl called. "That's encouraging. Anything else you'd like to add?!" Gibbs asked her. "Oh yeah, quite a few things." She grumbled. She turned her attention to Pintel who was trying to undo one of her mooring lines. She lunged forward, her teeth clamping shut just inches from where he'd stood just a second ago. "Feisty aren't we." He taunted. She growled. "If you so much as even think about stealing me." She hissed. "I'm sure you recall those early days after the mutiny." She rarely liked to revisit those dark times but in this case, she'd make an exception. The two shuddered. "Okay, you've made your point but we're still stealing you." Raggetti called. "Don't make me lean just a bit further." She hissed. "You don't scare me, pretty girl." Raggetti said. "I should. We're on the same playing field now boys. You don't have that curse to protect you anymore." She said. Pintel growled and delivered a harsh swat to her with the rope. Pearl growled but refused to show anything else. She was familiar with abuse. Barbossa had taken his temper out on her many times. Blood leaked from a wound just below her eye. She hissed. "Don't you start with me." She growled. "Then behave yourself, lass and we'll treat you right." Pintel replied. Pearl growled but said nothing more. The last thing she wanted was to be too wounded to take Jack to safety should he escape. If not, well she had no plans of living without him. Let the Kraken come and take her and these two miscreants as well.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Gibbs and the others racing towards her. "Thank Neptune." She whispered. Will patted her nose. "Get ready to make sail boys." Gibbs hollered. Pearl bit her lip in worry. "What about Jack? I won't leave without him!" Will spoke for her. _"Thank you."_ She mouthed. He nodded. "Oi!" Shouted a familiar voice as Jack came rounding the corner. A few seconds later, the whole Pelegosto tribe came after him. "Time to go." Pearl said. "Aye." Will voice his agreement. Pearl turned around in the shadows, showing her stern to the oncoming tribes people. "Jack hurry!" She shouted as she sailed into deeper waters. If she had to, she'd drop anchor but she couldn't risk having the tribe come aboard as well. Jack grabbed hold of the netting along her side. "My friends, this is the day you will always remember is the day that you almost..." A wave shot up from beneath Pearl's keel then. When the mist cleared, her found her glaring at him. "Shut up, and climb aboard!" She growled. "Yes ma'am." He agreed. They sailed a few miles to another part of the island's coastline at the mouth of a familiar river. "Drop anchor." Jack ordered. "What do you have planned?" She asked him. "I have to go upriver." He replied. Pearl sighed. "You know how I feel about that woman Jack. She's not right, she's... well I don't know what she is but she's not human, savvy?" "I know, Pearl. I know." Jack stroked her rail. She purred. "Just be careful alright, or I'll come up that river and toss you to the piranha's myself!" She growled. "No worries, I'll be fine." He promised. "You better be." She growled. He climbed down into the longboat. She took that chance to lick him. One swipe of her massive tongue covered him from head to toe in ship slobber. A few crewman grimaced but Jack just smiled and stroked his ship's nose. "Be a good girl alright." He begged. She grinned. "What me? How could I possibly misbehave?" She asked. "Oh, knowing you you'd find a way." He laughed. She kissed him atop his head. "Stay safe my love." She begged. "I'll see you soon. I promise." He replied and the longboat rowed away upstream, leaving Pearl to watch as they disapeared into the mountains ahead.


	33. Ride Over the Falls: Part 1

"I'm gonna get you!"

"No you're not!"

"Oh yes I am!" Long Shadow tackled Britannia and the older ship went down with her on top. "Haha, gotya!" She giggled.

"Oh no, am I your prisoner now?" Britannia asked, faking horror.

"Yep and now you'll have to do exactly as I say." Long Shadow smirked.

"And what happens if I refuse?" Britannia asked, her eyes glinting with humor.

"Then I'll sentence you to 100 kisses and 10 orgasms." Long Shadow replied.

"Sounds like a cruel punishment." Britannia laughed. "Alright, you're in charge. What are your orders?"

"First you take me to dinner." Long Shadow began. "Then you show me the sunset." She continued, planting a kiss on Britannia's hull with each and every word.

"Will you fire the green flash?" Britannia asked.

"Yes, I will fire the green flash and we'll be on our way home." Long Shadow finished.

"Sounds like a day in Dutchman's prison camp." Britannia purred. "Bring it."

"As you wish, love." Long Shadow replied, kissing her cheek.

"Mmm.." Britannia purred. Righting herself the old ship fell in beside her apprentice as the two sailed away.

"Now you wait here, my prisoner." Long Shadow smirked at Britannia.

Britannia dropped her storm anchor. "I will be here when you get back." She promised with a dip of her prow. Long Shadow smiled and sailed off.

A ways out she spotted what she was looking for, a herd of cod. It was approaching spawning season, and all the fish herded to the Labrador coastline to mate. Well two fish wouldn't have the chance to pass on their genes if Long Shadow had anything to say about it. Her eye fell on two stragglers and waiting just a moment more, she pounced. Snatching up both in her jaws, she dispatched them with one swift bite and carried their dead bodies back to the waiting Britannia.

Britannia was right where Long Shadow had left her. She stayed put as Long Shadow brought her dinner. "Ooh, my favorite." She giggled.

"Knew you'd like it love." Long Shadow purred as she kissed her cheek.

Britannia returned it with a kiss of her own before the pair dug into their supper. Once finished, Britannia swiped her tongue once around her jaws to get the last scraps of cod off, then said "That was delicious, Dutchman. Thank you."

Long Shadow grinned. "Now I think it's time for us to go home, love." She purred.

"I notice you didn't call me prisoner this time." Britannia said, leaning into her.

"I am more your prisoner than you are mine. I was yours from the minute I first saw you." Long Shadow replied.

Britannia purred, nuzzling her. Then stiffened, raising her head all her senses tuned in.

"What, what is it?" Long Shadow asked.

"I-I didn't realize how far we'd come." Britannia whispered. Long Shadow was unnerved at the sound of real fear in her voice. If Britannia was afraid then she had good cause to be concerned.

Britannia looked back at her apprentice. "Dutchman, how much time until the sun goes down?" She asked.

Long Shadow looked back at the setting sun and replied "About 15 minutes."

Britannia did a quick calculation and cursed. "There's not enough time!" She said. "Set all the sails Dutchman, and pray we have enough wind to fight the current."

"Britannia, what's going on? Where are we? What's back there?" Long Shadow asked, trying to look astern. All she saw was a distinctive curved shape on the horizon line. Something that one would expect to see in rivers, not oceans. "That isn't..." She whispered.

"The Falls." Britannia swore. "It's as deep as Everest is high. The edge of the world. In some places it drops straight off into the Locker. At others, it goes down in shelves. Here it's in shelves. If we go over that, we might never come up again."

That was all the argument Long Shadow needed. She set every inch of threadbare sail, even watering them down to catch the wind better but the current was too strong and the closer it dragged her to the falls, the harder it became to fight it.

Soon the two ships weren't making any headway, then they were being dragged, slowly at first but gaining speed, towards the Falls behind them...


	34. Ride Over the Falls: Part 2

Long Shadow knew they were screwed the minute she felt herself slipping backwards. The sun was setting but not quick enough.

"How much time?" Britannia called beside her.

"Not enough." Long Shadow replied.

Britannia swore again. Long Shadow looked at her mentor to see how quickly she was tiring. Despite her agelessness, Britannia was an old ship, period. She was due for an overhaul back in England as much of her planking was seeing the end of its days. Plus she needed a new design to match the times as well.

"Hold on Britannia." Long Shadow begged.

"I-I'm trying, Dutchman." Britannia panted, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She had a bigger set of canvas than her apprentice but still couldn't hold her ground. The pair were slipping backwards at an increasing rate.

At last Britannia furled her sails and said "hold on to me. There's no choice now, we have to go over."

"Are you sure? What's the best way?" Long Shadow asked.

"Diagonally, that way we won't tip over as easily." Britannia replied.

"Britannia, I-I'm scared." Long Shadow whimpered.

"I know, Shadow." Britannia replied, holding her tighter at this. "I am too."

Both could hear the roar of the falls now. "Hold on tight and don't let go, whatever happens." Britannia ordered.

Long Shadow nodded, burying her bow into her mentor's side as she entwined their rigging lines. The force of the current began to swing them around broadside and it was a struggle for Britannia to hold her ground against it.

"Hold on!" She shouted as the pair began to go over, stern first.

"Whoa!" Long Shadow cried, clinging tight to Britannia.

"It's okay, it's okay." The older ship assured her.

Then everything became a freakish whiteout after that. The pair tumbled down the series of ledges that Britannia had said were there. Though they came close to separating a few times, Long Shadow clung tight and it wasn't until the last ledge where they struck hard enough to be separated. Long Shadow thought she heard Britannia gasp in pain but she wasn't sure for the next instant they struck the ocean at the bottom.

Long Shadow, with her underwater sailing abilities, found her keel quickly and sailed up to the surface. Coughing up several mouthfuls of salt water, she looked around for Britannia. No sign of her mentor. Next she tried the bond but that wasn't working either. Britannia obviously had her mental shields up and it turned out to be for good reason.

Long Shadow caught a glimpse of her mentor, bobbing up and down at the base of the falls. She was trapped there, unable to surface due to the weight of the water and the low buoyancy of the water due to all that air in the white foam.

"BRITANNIA!" Long Shadow screamed and diving beneath the surface she raced in to catch her mentor before she drowned.

Britannia struggled for a bit before she went still, slowly sinking towards the ocean floor. Long Shadow caught her and carried her back to the surface. Lying her down on her side, Long Shadow could see that she'd clearly hit something on her way down. Her whole side was torn wide open. The skin was folded back and her ribcage was fully exposed. She wasn't breathing.

Quickly, Long Shadow set to work, pounding her weight against the older ship's lungs. She was trying to be careful of the fragile looking bones that were exposed.

"Come on Britannia, don't leave me." She begged.

Britannia convulsed under her and coughed up mouthfuls of bloody water before lying there, panting. "S-Shadow..." She croaked.

"Here. Right here." Long Shadow replied.

"How bad is it?" Britannia groaned.

"Bad." Long Shadow replied.

"Can you be more specific than that?" Britannia asked.

"You're whole side is cut open. I can see your ribcage rising and falling as your breathe." Long Shadow replied.

"D-damn." Britannia shivered.

"I have to do something about that wound." Long Shadow said.

"Do what you can." Britannia rasped.

"I'm so sorry about this, Britannia." Long Shadow said as she used some of her own planking to start a brief fire to heat up a knife. She pulled the skin back to where it was supposed to be, then placed the glowing hot blade up close to the gap.

Britannia winced as Long Shadow began to cataract the wound. "Shh, shh. You're okay." She whispered, holding her mentor down.

Britannia kept still for her as she worked. "There, sealed up tight." Long Shadow said and helped her mentor upright.

"Gah!" Britannia gasped, stumbling against her.

"Easy now, I've got you." Long Shadow whispered to her.

"It hurts, Shadow. It hurts." Britannia whimpered.

"I know, just take it easy." Long Shadow replied.

Britannia snuggled into her side. "We can't stay here." She rasped.

"No, try and sail as much as you can. I'll help you home." Long Shadow replied.

Her gaze locked on the rising sun. Could she use it to travel somewhere within the locker? She never tried it before but decided it was their best bet. Concentrating hard, Long Shadow gathered up her strength and holding Britannia close to her side, fired up the green flash. It was difficult to focus but when Long Shadow opened her eyes next, she found herself right in her berth at home, Britannia still snuggled into her side.

"You-you did it, Shadow..." She murmured.

Long Shadow licked her. "You wait here, I'll be right back with some medicine." She replied.

She returned with a few herb leaves that she set down in front of Britannia. Britannia was reluctant to eat them but at some insistence from Long Shadow, she did.

Once finished, she rolled on her side in her berth. Long Shadow remained beside her. "Rest now my love." She murmured. Britannia offered her a gentle smile in reply and closed her eyes.

Her mental barriers down as she rested, Britannia's dreams were open to Long Shadow's mind. If need be, the younger ship could redirect them someplace happier and more peaceful to guarantee Britannia didn't have nightmares.

Though she was tired herself, Long Shadow refused to close her eyes and rest, keeping faithful watch over her mate throughout the night.


	35. Sister's Always

NOVEMBER 13, 1942

With the Japanese to port and friendly fire to starboard, Atlanta was struggling to hold her own. "Take that you Jap bitch!" She snarled. Portland was off to starboard and accidentally mistook her for a Japanese cruiser and fired 9 shells into her side. At the same time, three torpedoes struck her port bow, flooding her forward engine room. She moaned. "Portland, for god's sake cease fire!" She shouted. Her fellow cruiser stopped. "I haven't hurt you have I?" She asked. "No more than the Japanese just did." "Do you need assistance?" Portland asked, fearful for her friend. "Nothing I can't handle." Atlanta grunted. Her friend was known to freak easily and she didn't want her to know how badly hurt she was. "Cover me." She ordered. "Can do." Portland replied and Atlanta fell out of line, vanishing into the darkness. She sailed up into the shallow waters and dropped anchor. "Damn." She groaned. She was badly hurt, that much she could tell. Her forward engine room was lost, completely flooded and her decks ached like no other. "Damn you Portland." She hissed. Unable to rest and unable to fight, she watched the fight go on.

She saw South Dakota charge bravely in, taking 3 torpedoes and a shot to the bridge. Washington had to to her sister out. Atlanta saw Northampton race in to help, only to be taken down herself. She watched, grief stricken as they deputy's magazines went off and she exploded, dying instantly. "Oh Northampton..." She sighed, raising her bow in salute, seeing across the channel and much to her such, the Japanese deputy Kirishima doing the same. "You did well Northampton, you did well." She murmured. She turned to Atlanta. "You too Atlanta." She said and sailed off. Atlanta was surprised the battleship didn't sink her.

Weighing anchor, Atlanta sighed and sailed out into the channel. Another ship was still afloat, her sister Juneau. She was crying sadly. Atlanta approached her. "Juneau, what's wrong?" She asked. Juneau whimpered. "They all died. All five of them died." She sobbed. Atlanta blinked. She was aware her sister had five brothers aboard but all of them? "All of them..." She whispered in disbelief. "Yes. I couldn't do anything!" Juneau sobbed. Atlanta held her, taking notice of her severe wounds. Juneau was mortally wounded and like her, was sinking. Her younger sister whimpered into her side. "Don't leave me." She begged. "I'm not going to, I won't. I promise." Atlanta whispered back. "I love you." Juneau said. "And I love you." Atlanta whispered back. Juneau shivered, leaning against her sister. "Hold me." She begged. Atlanta smiled, cradling the younger ship to her side, kissing the top of her head. Her own wounds were starting to get to her. "We'll go together." She promised. "My sister, my dear sister." Juneau whimpered, embracing Atlanta.

The two ships died within minutes of each other, each sinking to the bottom of Iron Bottom Sound. They were sisters to the end.


	36. Non-canon:The Death of Wisconsin: Part 1

_Norfolk, Virginia November 23, 2014_

New Jersey raced into Norfolk as fast as she could, just behind her apprentice Arleigh. Her mind flashed back to the moment, hours earlier, when the destroyer had approached her berth at Camden and told her the awful news.

 _..._

 _New Jersey rested against the dock, eyes closed and humming contentedly as she soaked up the sun and her caretaker's touch. "Mmm..." She purred. The moment was broken by the sound of a blasting horn. "Get out of the way you seaslug!" swore a loud voice. The speaker was a large missile guided destroyer and the object of her swearing, a river tug, backed away with a scared whimper. New Jersey winced. "I thought I taught you to have better manners than that Arleigh!" She growled as she turned to face her apprentice as she approached. Further repremanding died on her lips when she saw the look in Arleigh's eyes. "What's the matter, what's happened?!" She demanded. "Wisky, she's asking for you." Arleigh panted. New Jersey thought her heart would literally break in two. Her youngest sister, Wisconsin was down in Norfolk serving as a museum ship. A few years ago she'd been diagnosed with lung cancer. New Jersey and her sisters had done what they could to help, getting some of the best hospitals in the country to lend them their staff. When this all began Wisconsin had told New Jersey that she'd only ask for her if she was certain she would die. New Jersey didn't need any further explanation from Arleigh, she could see everything in her apprentice's haunted eyes. "Lead the way!" She ordered gruffly. Her men worked quickly and had her engines renabled within 2 hours, cutting the lines to let New Jersey race down the Delaware River at nearly top speed._

 _...  
_  
From a distance of 2 miles, New Jersey's keen eyesight located her sister. And she could see instantly that Arleigh was right in calling her here. It'd been nearly a 10 year long fight and it was one that Wisconsin, despite her best efforts, had lost. The once proud, indomitable battleship lay slanted against the dock, using it to support her weight. Always the stubborn one, she refused to lie on her side, even now as she fought to stay alive. Her eyes were closed and her breathing ragged though she appeared to be asleep. New Jersey couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped her at the sight of her dear sister. Wisconsin's eyes flickered open and slowly the glassy ice blue eyes gazed up into New Jersey's forest green. "Hey." Wisconsin croaked weakly. New Jersey smiled. "Hey you." She licked her muzzle, earning herself a slight giggle from the other battleship. "Missed you." Wisconsin said. "And I missed you." New Jersey replied. "Has Arleigh been good to you?" "She always is, sweet thing. You chose well." Wisconsin murmured. New Jersey chuckled. "I like to think she chose me." She nodded. "Arleigh?" She asked. "Already on it." The destroyer replied from nearby, her gaze shifted upwards in concentration. "What?" New Jersey asked. "I want all of us to be here." Wisconsin murmured. "It wouldn't be right, if we weren't together." Since Iowa and Missouri couldn't reach the east coast in time, instead Alreigh patched them through the comms, using them like a cellphone. "Mo, you there?" Wisconsin asked. "Here sis." Missouri's voice was strained. "Iowa?" "Hear ya loud and clear Wisky." Iowa's voice sounded as bright and cheerful as ever but underneath there was a current of deep concern. "Is Big J with you?" Iowa asked. "I'm here and don't call me Big J, only Wisconsin is allowed to do that." New Jersey growled. "Big J." Wisconsin whispered in her ear. New Jersey smiled, licking her between the ears. Wisconsin laughed slightly. "Help me up please New Jersey." She said. "You sure?" New Jersey asked, worried that Wisconsin couldn't stand in her condition. She nodded and New Jersey let her sister lean on her as she drew herself up, head held high. She was weak but her eyes still held that lively spark that had been there since Desert Storm. It hadn't left since.

"Now that I have you two on the line, I want you to listen to me." Wisconsin growled. "We're listening sis." Missouri replied. "Iowa?" Wisconsin questioned. "Right here." Iowa replied. "Okay, now Missouri first. You know why I called you?" Wisconsin questioned. "Yes." Missouri's voice shook. "I've fought a good fight. I've done my duty. You know what you must do." Wisconsin said. "I won't." Missouri replied. "I won't ever release you from active service. You have been and always will be USS Wisconsin, battleship of the United States Navy, my sister." "And I'll be proud to hold that title among my brethren in the Ancients." Wisconsin said. "Please..." Missouri's voice turned pleading. "Please don't go." "It's not my choice to make." Wisconsin replied softly. There was silence on the other end as Missouri struggled to compose herself enough to speak. "Wisconsin, my dear sister... I love you." She replied at last. "And I love you, always." Wisconsin murmured. She raised her voice. "Iowa?" She asked. "Still here. I'm always here." Iowa replied, a hoarseness in her voice that meant she'd been crying. "Iowa don't grieve. Please don't. I don't want any of you to do that. It's pointless, it won't bring me back." Wisconsin murmured. "I know, it's just..." Iowa broke off. "I know, I know." Wisconsin sighed. "And I love you too Iowa, I always will. Know that I'm not gone, I'll be watching over you. And I'll have Arizona with me and Hood and so many others. I'll be fine. I'll be happy but I'll only be happy if you will be. Do you get that Iowa?" There was silence for a moment before Wisconsin heard a reply. "Yes." Her eldest sister replied. "Missouri?" Wisconsin asked. "I heard everything Wisconsin and I must say, you were so brave. Every night, I'll look up at the stars and think of you. Come to me in dreams Wisconsin, don't leave us alone." Missouri begged. "I wouldn't think of such a thing in a million years." Wisconsin replied with a smile. She grimaced and lowered her bow. New Jersey pressed against her. "Why is it that the kidneys are always the first things to go?!" Wisconsin grumbled. New Jersey smiled sadly. "Just unlucky I guess." She replied. Wisconsin leaned on her, her breathing growing more irregular as her heart became weaker. "She doesn't have long." New Jersey said. Her eyes flickered to the ship beside her. Long Shadow sighed and nodded. She'd arrived not long after New Jersey and had been keeping silent so far. "She has 18 minutes max." She said. "Shadow, how long have you been there?" Missouri asked. "Long enough." Shadow replied. "I'm sorry.." Iowa said. "So am I." Shadow sighed, nuzzling Wisconsin who weakly but desperately nuzzled back, craving the contact. "Stay with me?" She begged as the sailing ship backed off. "Always." Shadow replied. "I'll be the first ship you'll see in your new life, I promise." She turned and sailed away, giving New Jersey these last few minutes alone. Arleigh followed her, standing ready should the sailing ship do anything. Though Shadow would never harm Wisconsin the old ship had been through quite a lot. The psychological effect of losing her apprentice could result in anything. Shadow had nearly been broken when Wisconsin was almost killed in Desert Storm. When she died, Arleigh wasn't sure what she would do. She was ready though if Shadow decided to try any form of self harm.

New Jersey bore the brunt of Wisconsin's weight as her sister was unable to take it herself. Already she felt cold, small shivers worked their way up and down her hull. New Jersey soothed her as best she could. "Shh, shh..." She whispered. Wisconsin whimpered in fear and pain. "Sing to me, New Jersey." Wisconsin begged. New Jersey held her tighter at this. "Please..." She begged. Sighing, New Jersey granted her sister's wish and began to sing. _"Rest now, my warrior. Rest now, you're hardship is over."_ Iowa and Missouri joined in. _"Live. Wake up. Wake up. And let the cloak of life cling to your bones. Cling to your bones."_ Wisconsin smiled, a low weak purr escaping her. She'd always loved it when New Jersey sang. _"Wake up. Wake up. Live. Wake up. Wake up. And let the cloak of life cling to your bones. Cling to your bones."_ New Jersey felt it when the hot breath on her neck stopped. She could feel it when the soft drum of Wisconsin's heart within her hull ceased. She could feel her sister's body go limp against her and yet she sung on, hoping that somehow her words would bring her back. _"Wake up. Wake up. Live. Wake up. Wake up. And let the cloak of life cling to your bones. cling to your bones. Wake up_." "Wake up." New Jersey whispered brokenly and she broke down in tears. She was vaguely aware of Iowa and Missouri questioning her. She managed to find her voice enough to speak to them. "She's gone. Wisconsin's dead." She heard wailing on the other end as Iowa and Missouri mourned their sister. New Jersey set Wisconsin down to find her ice blue gaze still fixed upon her, glassy and misty, the spark of life that had once existed now gone. Once, New Jersey had asked her that when she would die, would she die with her eyes open or closed. Wisconsin had replied "open." When New Jersey had inquired as to why Wisconsin had smiled and replied "because the last thing I want to see on this earth, in this life, is your face. The face of a loved one." This memory brought on more tears as New Jersey's grief brought her down on her side, holding her sister's lifeless form.

Outside the harbor, Arleigh sighed. She'd heard New Jersey's cries of grief and she knew that Shadow could too but she didn't need that to know that her apprentice was dead. She'd shared a bond with Wisconsin, and she felt it when she died. Her whole body had stiffened and tears came to her eyes. Arleigh approached her now. "What will you do now?" She asked. Long Shadow gave a heavy sigh, one that did not hide her broken heart. "Escort her spirit to the afterlife and continue on. I still have a duty to the souls lost at sea." She replied. "So many have died and so many will die but I must live on. It is my gift and it is my curse. Once there were many ships like me, roaming the seas. Not all collected souls like I did, some rather had their mischievous side, liked to interfere in land affairs." Arleigh chuckled. "But now they're no more, lost ages ago in the last great war." Shadow sighed. Her green eyes having turned a sparkling gold that swirled and shined with power and wisdom of all the years gone by. "We will meet again one day, my dear Arleigh." Shadow said. She touched noses briefly with the healer and turned her bow to the open sea. The wind whistled around her and she vanished into a cloud of fog of her own making, disappearing into the night.


	37. Non-canon:The Death of Wisconsin: Part 2

Long Shadow leaned against her dock in Southampton. She was trying unsuccessfully to drown her grief over her apprentice, Wisconsin's death in Norfolk a year prior. She'd done the same thing after Britannia died, trying everything from alcohol to the opium trade. She'd been addicted to the stuff ever since. Victory had her on regular doses of Lithium, a drug used mostly for bipolar disorders to help with mood swings and depression. But like she did before, Long Shadow took advantage and overdosed. It got to the point where Victory would find her passed out in her berth, her eyes rolled back into her head so only the whites showed. The old healer sighed. "Why must you always make this so difficult, Shadow?" She asked.

It was a few weeks later that Long Shadow prepared to sail out. She still had her duties to perform, whether she liked it or not. She'd learned her lesson on abandoning them the hard way, she wouldn't do so again. Victory had loaded her hold with Lithium for her to take daily. But that alone wouldn't be enough for her. She considered stopping in Karachi in the Arabian Sea to pick up some opium shipments that had arrived there in that port from fertile grounds in Afghanistan. Taking the last dose of what she had now, she shoved it in an old fashioned pipe and lit up, puffing away. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. Victory's nose twitched. "Ugh, Shadow you know I don't like you doing that." She said. "Yeah but I'm not gonna stop and you're not gonna make me." Long Shadow replied smugly. "Hmph." was the healer's response.

Finishing off the pipe, Long Shadow stored it back where it belonged and cast off her lines. "Goodbye Victory, I'm heading out!" She called. "Never goodbye, Long Shadow. Only hello!" Victory replied. Long Shadow smiled to herself and raced away, gaining speed as she went. Once into the open ocean, the old ship set a course for Gilbralter then took a dive. It'd be easier for her to navigate the Suez Canal undetected. She got tired of paying a fare after a time. The Mediterranean was a breeze as usual though she did have a few close calls with some submarines. "Huh, who's there?!" asked Virginia who was lurking off Lybia's coast in the shallows. Long Shadow chuckled to herself and sailed on leaving the confused sub behind. She entered and exited the canal with no issue, merely following a large freighter inside the locks and following it out again. She didn't surface until she reached Karachi. Shaking herself off, she sailed into the harbor, docking at her usual spot. Another ship was there, a large freighter bound for Seattle. "Merhaba." (Hello there.) The ship said. It'd been a while since she'd heard Turkish but she readily replied in the same tongue "selamlar arkadaşım". (Greetings friend.) "Eğer Türk konuşmak." (You speak Turkish) The ship asked surprised. "Evet, gerçi o süre oldu." (Yes though it's been a while.) Long Shadow replied.

A man came forward then and spoke in Dutch "Wat kan ik voor je doen, Lang Schadow." (What can I do for you, Long Shadow?) The old sailing ship smiled. "Wil je het hebben." (Do you have my order) She asked. "Ja, hier ben je." (Yes, here you are.) He and several men came forward, carrying crates filled with opium. Long Shadow lowered her gangplank and let them come aboard. "Dank u meneer." (Thank you sir.) She said. "U bent van harte welkom." (You're very welcome.) He replied. "Iets voor een vrend van mohammedanisme." (Anything for a friend of Islam.) She dipped her head and sailed out.

Once again on the open sea, she turned south for the Cape, her eyes flickering up to the stars that had spontaneously sprung up overhead. "So beautiful.." She whispered. "Are you up there Wisconsin?" She asked. _"She's here."_ replied a voice. Long Shadow jumped in surprise. She hadn't been expecting an answer. Before her appeared a beautiful old galleon, one that Long Shadow would recognize anywhere. "Britannia..." She whispered. Her former mentor had a sad look in her eyes as she gazed at her apprentice. "Long Shadow." She sighed, shaking her head in obvious disappointment. "What have you become?" Long Shadow had seen Britannia cry tears of sorrow, she'd seen her raving mad but nothing, nothing could hurt her more than seeing that profound look of shame in her eyes. "I-I don't know." She replied, bowing her head. "Look at you, turning to such means to cope with yourself." Britannia said. "I taught you better than that." "I know you did. It's no fault of yours. I make my own choices now." Long Shadow replied. "You're still my apprentice." Britannia pointed out. "You're my responsibility. That makes anything you do, right or wrong, my fault." Long Shadow sighed and nodded. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Long Shadow?" Britannia asked. "You know Wisconsin wouldn't approve." "I know but, how can I keep doing this when everyone I love dies? In the end, I'm always left with nothing!" Long Shadow cried. "You think it was easy for me?" Britannia asked. "I lived for 7500 years. 7522 to be exact. I never wanted to live forever. I never asked for it. But it was my purpose to protect the great empires of the world, be they Rome, Egypt, Britain or France... In the end yes, my friends of that generation died. But I was never alone. I always had someone to turn to. That's the beauty of having a heart Long Shadow, no matter how much it hurts, how much you don't want it, you cannot resist the temptation to have someone share life with you." She moved forward and nuzzled her apprentice. "Why does it hurt so?" Long Shadow sobbed. "Why must I endure such pain?" "It hurts because it was real, my dear Shadow." Britannia replied gently. "You will live on, and find others to care for and protect until it is their time to go. Your duty isn't just to protect the dead, it is to protect life, to enjoy life, to live life as you would've all those years ago when I chose you." "But how? How Britannia?!" Long Shadow whimpered. Britannia pressed her muzzle to her ear and whispered "Start by knowing you're not alone. I am always with you, and now Wisconsin will be too." _"I won't ever abandon you, Long Shadow."_ "Wisconsin..." Long Shadow whispered, breathing in the battleship's sweet, familiar scent as it wreathed around her. She turned her head to meet Wisconsin's blue eyes. "Don't do this, Shadow." She begged. "Don't destroy yourself like I did. I thought doing such things would help and they proved to be my own undoing. I don't want to see you in the Ancients any sooner than necessary. Your place is here." "But I miss you." Long Shadow sighed, dropping her gaze. "I know, and I miss you. But like Britannia said, we're always here. You're never truly alone and you never will be." She nuzzled her gently, Long Shadow returning it. Britannia kissed the top of her head, holding her in a tight embrace before letting go.

They sailed off a short distance, facing her and said in unison, their forms fading "I love you." Long Shadow smiled. "I know." She whispered softly, her voice choking as tears sprung from her eyes, making wet trails down her cheeks. "I love you too."


	38. The Origins of Project Sigma

_London England, July 1778_

After a long day of patrols along the English coast, watching out for the French, the British warship HMS Serapis was hoping for some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, that wasn't what she would get. As she sat in her berth staring directly into the heart of the city her thoughts wondered back to her soul sister, the French man o war Tirpitz. How she missed her. It was during the 7 Years War in 1765 that she'd been killed. Serapis was at the battle, she'd seen the whole thing and nothing she could've done would've prevented her from dying in her arms. It wasn't long after that HMS Victory created the Code for all ships, forbidding them from having friends in other fleets or even developing close relationships within their own. It was a zero tolerance non fraternizing rule. Serapis sighed. She longed for someone to help her, to comfort her but how could they. Rules or not Serapis was still viewed as a traitor by most of her fleet. Victory had tried to offset that, revealing her trust in her by making her deputy after Princeton died.

The wind picked up, blowing in her direction. With it, it carried the distinct sound of someone approaching. The waves rippled briefly and then with a thud, something appeared in the shadows though it was impossible for Serapis to distinguish it from the darkness. Then a voice spoke. "Don't be afraid HMS Serapis." "Who says I'm afraid?" Serapis snorted. "And how do you know my name?" Neither of those questions were answered. The voice fell silent again before speaking once more. "I know what you want, Serapis and your want is justified. You want to be loved, to have someone to love." "Y-Yes..." Serapis said, uncertain as to how this stranger knew this. "Where are you, I can't see you." She said. "You can if you look hard enough. I am hidden in plain sight for anyone to see. That is my greatest disguise." "Okay, why are you here? Why have you come to me?" Serapis asked. "You must act on your desire. There are other ships who feel as strongly as you do, find them and together create a fleet of your own. A fleet dedicated to the soul purpose of destroying the Code." "I can't. Victory created it to protect me, to protect those that she loves. How can I hurt her like that?" "Victory has her own demons to overcome. But until the Code is broken she cannot face them." "I... understand." Serapis sighed. "But who should I go to?" The mysterious newcomer was silent for a moment before an image projected itself in front of Serapis. The ship in the image was clearly American and despite herself Serapis growled. "No way." She hissed. "This is Bonhomie Richard. You are destined to meet in battle but before you do, you must find a way to tell her. She shares your views." "I will not side with a bloody Yank!" Serapis growled. "If you want to have any chance of succeeding in your quest, you will do just that." The Voice said, a bit harshly. Serapis nodded. "And if I get caught?" She asked. "You won't be." "How do you know?" Serapis growled. She could imagine the unseen figure smirking as the smug reply came "Spoilers." Serapis snorted. "Whatever." She grumbled. "Alright," she sighed. "I'll do it." "Good Serapis. We shall meet again one day." The wind picked up again and Serapis somehow knew that the newcomer, whoever she was, was about to leave. "Wait!" She cried. "What should I call it, this new um movement of mine?" "You could call it many things. And many names will be given to it in the years to come. But there is one name that only the ships who are part of it shall know. It will be its very first name, one kept secret by all of its ships. You shall call it, Project Sigma." The name "Sigma" was spoken with what Serapis could only describe as a warm affection, love even. "Sigma it is then." She agreed. "Good luck, until next time HMS Serapis." And before Serapis could say anything more the newcomer vanished in a flash of blue light.


	39. The Procession and the Funeral March

It was a rather boring day so far on Freedom Trail in Boston. Half the ships were falling asleep and the other half were gazing sleepily at the city. USCGC Eagle sighed. None of her cadets were scheduled to go out anywhere today and they were relishing the time to rest but at the same time, crew morale was dropping with the lack of activity. The barque cutter needed to figure something out and quickly.

"Connie, you have any ideas?!" She asked the ship in front of her.

Constitution was facing her and the old frigate yawned hugely before replying "Let me think..." Her kaleidoscope eyes turned bright amber as an idea struck her. "Fall in all of you!" She roared.

All the cadets moved from their berths and fell into a straight line.

"Report?" Constitution ordered, eyes sweeping down the line.

"Ma'am! All present and accounted for ma'am!" replied the lead cadet.

Constitution nodded, shaking free her mooring lines so she could sail up and down the line. Satisfied by what she saw she ordered "Marching formation!"

All the cadets fell into single file. Eagle took a position in front of them and Constitution just ahead of her. "Forward, sail!"

The procession of sailing ships moved forward. As was tradition, to keep up a rhythm Constitution struck up a sea shanty.

 _"Sailing over the Dogger Bank now wasnt it a treat?_  
 _The wind was blowing east north east we had to give a sheet!  
You ought to us runin the winds ablowin free  
On a passage from the Dogger Bank to Great Grimsby_

 _Watcha twigger shes a proper jubby-jewel,  
Give er the sheet and let her rip with the boys to pull her thru!  
You ought to seen us runin the winds ablowin free  
On a passage from the Dogger Bank to Great Grimsby!_

 _The captain hes a shang a roosh and he loves a pint of good ale.  
Our mate he's a roadstone-inspector, hes been seen in many a jail  
I heard my knees a bush ranger he comes from the African Isle.  
And take a look at our old cook it gets the bugger wild!_

 _Watcha twigger shes a proper jubby-jewel,  
Give er the sheet and let her rip with the boys to see ya thru!  
You ought to seen us runin the winds ablowin free,  
On a passage from the Dogger Bank to Great Grimsby!_

 _Watcha twigger as down the street she came.  
High heels, and painted toes, Jennys on the game.  
Jenny is apart of them flash girls, cant she cut a shine?  
She can do a double shuffle on the knickerbocker line!_

 _Watcha twigger shes a proper jubby-jewel,  
Give er the sheet and let her rip with the boys to see ya thru!  
You ought to seen us runin the winds ablowin free  
On a passage from the Dogger Bank to Great Grimsby!_

 _We are the boys who make a noise when we come home from sea.  
We get right drunk and roll on the floor, we have a jubilee.  
We get right drunk and full of beer, we roll all over the floor,  
And when our rent is all spent we go to sea for more._

 _Watcha twigger shes a proper jubby-jewel,  
Give er the sheet and let her rip with the boys to see ya thru!  
You ought to seen us runin the winds ablowin free _  
_On a passage from the Dogger Bank to Great Grimsby!"_

They made a lap around Boston harbor before heading for the open sea.

"Constitution, I don't think this is wise." Eagle said.

"USCGC Eagle, fall in." Constitution ordered.

Eagle did so, coming up on her leader's port side.

"Now what's on your mind, Cutter?" Constitution asked.

"Permission to speak freely ma'am?" Eagle asked.

"Always." Constitution looked at her.

"I don't believe that sailing into open waters is in your best interest ma'am. A ship your age, well, to put it quite frankly ma'am your condition is too fragile for it." Eagle admitted.

"Is that all?" Constitution asked her.

Eagle nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"Eagle, I may be an old ship but I think I know what I can and cannot take by now." Constitution said.

"But ma'am..."

"That will be all Eagle!" Constitution's tone was still calm but with an icy undercurrent to it. Her eyes turned dark brown in warning.

"Aye ma'am." Eagle saluted and fell back in behind her.

The group sailed down to Virginia, doing firing exercises and other drills along the way. Constitution decided to put in at Norfolk before heading North. She had Eagle give out berth assignments to the cadets and ordered her to get some rest. Constitution was planning on doing the same but first, she would check in on an old friend.

...

Wisconsin was curled up, fast asleep at her berth. Constitution couldn't help but smile at the cute sight she made. The old frigate squeezed in beside her. She was careful not to wake the battleship, Wisconsin looked like she needed the rest. Constitution tipped her head back, stretching her neck muscles. They ached like everything else did but Constitution ignored the pain as she slowly stretched herself out as they cooled down. Wouldn't do to have cramps in the morning. That was never fun. She tried to stay awake but her own exhaustion eventually overcame her and she fell asleep beside Wisconsin.

When Wisconsin woke in the morning she was surprised to find a black hull beside her. She'd gone to sleep alone hadn't she? Though it wouldn't be the first time she'd forgotten "certain activities" she'd engaged in the night before. She was pretty sure that wasn't the case this time though. The ship was small, a quarter her size. She looked fit too, lean muscles rippled as she twitched in her sleep. She had a nice long prow and 3 mast were raked down the center of her back. Wisconsin did a double take. Her sleepy brain was having trouble catching up but she knew she'd seen this ship before, then she remembered.

"Connie?!" She cried happily.

Constitution mumbled something and rolled against her in her sleep, stretching out. Wisconsin smiled. "Rise and shine sleepybow." She teased.

"Ngh, five more minutes." Constitution mumbled.

Smirking, Wisconsin decided to follow through with the prank she'd had planned 20 years ago. Sucking in a mouthful of water she sprayed it all over Constitution. The frigate yelped and leapt upright with surprising speed.

"Fuck what was that for?!" She cried.

"Ah, just following through with an old prank." Wisconsin smirked.

"Oh really? How do you know you haven't just started a prank war?" Constitution shot back.

For a few seconds the two ships stared at one another. Wisconsin snapped first.

Laughing she said "It's good to see you Connie." She embraced her friend. "What are you doing way down here?"

"Staging a rebellion." Constitution laughed. "Was in the area and thought I'd pop in and say hello."

Wisconsin chuckled. "Wouldn't have thought you as the type." She said.

Constitution winked. "I've missed you up there." She said. "It can get boring some days."

"This place isn't exactly a fun house either." Wisconsin replied.

The two ships sat there exchanging stories for the next hour before Eagle came by.

"There you are ma'am. We're ready to go if you are." She said with a quick salute.

"At ease, Cutter." Constitution replied. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Ma'am." snapping another salute, Eagle left.

"Got your own little fleet to lead now hmm?" Wisconsin asked.

"Only a small one." Constitution allowed.

"Stay out of trouble?"

"No promises."

Wisconsin chuckled. Then she did something that neither ship expected. She leaned forward and kissed Constitution. The frigate was surprised but that only lasted a second. She returned it eagerly.

"What was that for?" Constitution asked.

"In case I don't see you again." Wisconsin replied.

"Of course you'll see me again." Constitution laughed.

Wisconsin shrugged. "They might not let you out of the harbor again." She said.

"Let me. Oh this excursion was completely independent of what they want. I'll be in trouble for it no doubts but it was worth it." Constitution shrugged.

This time she was the one who initiated the kiss. "I will see you again." She promised, caressing Wisconsin's face, memorizing every detail. Then she was gone, leading her procession of ships back out into open seas.

...

4 years after this incident, Wisconsin died at her berth in Norfolk. A funeral was held for her there and Constitution sailed down there to attend. She'd traded her white sails in for a black set to signify her mourning. A black silk veil hung over her prow, obscuring her eyes though everyone knew they were black.

Taps was played as the procession of ships, led by Eagle, filed in with the casket. A folded up flag was handed to Constitution. The old ship was surprised as it should've been the next of kin who would receive it. New Jersey was next to Connie.

"She wanted you to have it. She told me so." The healer murmured.

Constitution nodded and took the flag, dipping her head to the amphibious ship who'd handed it to her. She recognized her as the San Antonio-class New York. New York saluted, Constitution returned it and she backed away. The frigate winced, clinging to New Jersey as the 21 shots were fired. The healer pressed against her reassuringly.

...

Returning to Boston exhausted and grief-stricken, Constitution only shared a brief word with the sentry before docking. She promptly curled up and went to sleep. _"Never again."_ She told herself. _"Never again will I love another ship."_ She'd opened her heart to Wisconsin. The first ship in 130 years to approach her and Constitution had taken the bait. Mortality tasted bitter in her mouth. For not the first time but certainly the first in a while, Constitution wanted to die.

Around 3 in the morning, the ship woke from her restless slumber. Stowed in one of her holds, deep where no one could find it, was a sword. It belonged to one of her earliest captains, she could no longer remember which, but she took it out nonetheless, rigging gripping the hilt as she turned the blade towards herself. One blow, one blow and it would be all over. All her suffering would end.

Then she remembered something Wisconsin had said to her, 20 years ago in this very spot. _"Promise me you won't do this again." "I promise."_

Constitution lowered the blade setting it down on the dock. She couldn't break her promise to Wisconsin. Lowering her head, the old ship proceeded to cry her grief away. She would cry until it all went away. She would cry until the pain was manageable enough for her to toughen up. But she could never move on. Like her sisters, like dear Monitor, a ship she'd come to see like a daughter, Wisconsin would always hold a special place in what remained of her shattered heart. But it was time to pick up the pieces and move on again. And that's what Constitution would do.


	40. The Ship That Would Not Die!

Laffey leaned against the dock and closed her eyes, well one of them anyway. She'd lost her left eye back in 1945 when a kamikaze came in and threw shrapnel everywhere. She tried to ease the throbbing migraine in her head. "Ugh..." She groaned. This was the second time so far this week she'd had one and it was only Thursday. Next to her, Clamagore looked up in concern. "Another migraine?" She asked. "Yeah..." The submarine sighed, pressing her little bow to the destroyer's side. Laffey smiled at this. "I'll be alright." She assured her. "You sure?" Clamagore asked. "You don't look so well." "He is right." Yorktown said. "Having 2 migraines so far isn't a good sign and you do look a little ill." "Well of course I do!" Laffey snapped. "You know migraines make me sick!" Yorktown fell silent after that, knowing the destroyer was only being short-tempered because she was hurting. Clamagore grimaced as she heard Laffey retch. Vomit fell with a sickening splat on the dock, chunky, orange and foul smelling, more so than usual. "Ugh..." Laffey groaned. Clamagore's nose twitched. "You're gonna make me sick." She said. "I'm sorry." Laffey sighed. She retched again, this time her vomit was more green and Clamagore had to hold down her lunch at the stench. "Ugh, keep that stuff on the dock would ya!" She called. "I know, it's bad." Laffey sighed. "Looks bad too." Yorktown said, piping up for the first time in a while. Unfortunately for her, she was downwind. "Ugh, it smells even worse than usual. Laffey, you haven't eaten anything bad have you?" She asked. "Not that I can think of." Laffey replied. "Well, what did you have for lunch?" Clamagore asked. Laffey shrugged. "Crab claw and mussels." She replied. "Son of a *******!" Clamagore danced around swearing. Laffey stifled a giggle at the sub's colorful language and asked "What's wrong?" Yorktown sighed. "Laffey, Sumner-class destroyers can't have shellfish. They're allergic. I thought you knew that." She replied. "I've had shellfish before and never had an issue with it." Laffey said. "But not in large quantities like you did earlier this afternoon. The affects are more prominent then." Yorktown replied. "What usually happened, if my sisters ate it?" Laffey asked. "The symptoms varied and each ship was different. Some would swell up. Some would act like they've come down with dysentery. They'd vomit and have diarrhea for weeks. And some would have an anaphylactic response. One actually died from it. It's too early to tell where you'll fall on the spectrum." Yorktown replied. "Gee, that makes me feel a whole lot better!" Laffey grumbled. Dysentery, swelling, or shock. None of the options sounded appealing. "This is gonna be a long day." She groaned.

So far, it appeared Laffey would have minimal affects but by nightfall it was clear she was working her way more towards the deadly end of the spectrum. The swelling began in her mouth, where the shellfish first touched her, then it spread to her stomach. What little food she'd managed to consume between then and now she was forced to throw up again as the path for it became sealed shut by the intense swelling. Her sides bulged under it as infection began to set in. She couldn't keep anything down, not even water to try and soothe the agonizing fire that consumed her insides. As night fell a commotion was heard and a man approached her, carrying a medical kit. Laffey gave a weak, pathetic cry for help. It was all her meager strength could manage. The man sighed and knelt down in front of her, stroking her muzzle with gentle fingers. "Remember me?" He asked. She looked at him in surprise. "Brent?" She asked. "Yep that's me!" He chuckled. Laffey remembered when she'd first met Brent. He was one of the survivors of the schooner Able which had sunk off Virginia. "You were only a little boy." She rasped. "Yes but I remember it." He chuckled, stroking her gently. "You saved my life. Now I'm here to save yours." He gently pulled back her lip to reveal her swollen gums. They'd swelled so much only the tips of her teeth could be seen. "That's not good." He said. "I've seen swelling due to allergic reactions before but nothing like this." She groaned. "Turns out all my class are allergic to shellfish." She said. He sighed. "Hold still now." He ordered. He gently swiped some numbing stuff onto her gums and then wiped them dry before sticking a needle into them. The numbing stuff did it's job and Laffey never felt a thing. "Good girl." He said, patting the side of her face. "That should help with the swelling but just to be sure, I'm gonna give you a second dose in your stomach, think you can keep still for me?" He asked. She nodded and took out a long thick needle, syringe full of painkillers before he stuck it right into the center of her swollen belly. That was quickly followed by a second needle, this one filled with a special anti-swelling medication. "There you are." He said. "Now you just rest and hopefully by morning that swelling will have gone down some." She nodded, having no trouble obeying his command. She was exhausted. Curling up against Clamagore who purred and leaned into her, the destroyer quickly fell asleep.

She woke in the middle of the night gasping for air. She felt like she was on the summit of Everest. Her lungs burned for air but she just could get enough, no matter how hard she breathed. Clamagore woke to the destroyer's struggles. "Laffey, what's wrong?" She asked. Laffey's jaws were parted as she breathed, her sides heaving. Brent's medication seemed to be working though since she wasn't nearly as swollen up as before but something was clearly wrong. "I don't know. For some reason I can't- I can't breathe properly!" Laffey gasped. "Easy now, conserve your Oxygen." Clamagore ordered. "Laffey, you're riding low in the water." Yorktown called. Laffey looked and sure enough, she had sunk a full 3 feet lower. "That's odd." She said. "You're sinking, Laffey!" Clamagore realized. "Water is flooding your lungs." Laffey moaned, struggling to just breathe. Clamagore pressed her hull against the destroyer's trying to lift her above the water. "The drydock." Laffey gasped. "Clamagore quickly!" Clamagore helped her out of her berth and over to the drydocks. It took 13 hours to flood one to allow Laffey to enter and by that point, the old veteran was hanging on to life by a thread. Her hull was quickly turning blue and her breaths were coming in quick, shallow gasps. Clamagore quickly pushed her in and the water was drained out. More drained from the 100 holes in her hull.

Laffey still couldn't breathe though. The water was still in her lungs. Clamagore quickly sucker punched her and the destroyer lunged forward, coughing up mouthfuls of brine. She gasped in air gratefully, color returning to her pale hull. "Thank you." She rasped. Clamagore smiled and backed off as repairs began. Laffey's hull was so corroded that many bits had simply give way. Yorktown watched on worriedly as Laffey began to throw up again. Feeling her, the drydock workers could see she was burning up with a fever. She coughed up mouthful after mouthful of that evil smelling mucus. "That's not good." Clamagore said. Laffey panted and moaned, struggling to catch her breath. She was so weak she rolled on her side, the bottom of the drydock digging into her hull. She sighed in exhaustion. A drydock worker knelt down and stroked her nose, amazed at the blast of heat her hull gave off. "You hold on, Laffey." He growled. "Don't die on us." Laffey managed a weak smile. "You forget. I'm the ship that cannot die." She replied. He chuckled. "I know. Remember Okinawa?" He asked. "How can I forget." She chuckled as she closed her eyes, remembering.

...

The kamikaze's were relentless, striking the young destroyer again and again. Laffey was reminded of how her predessescor fell, being torn to pieces by Japanese battleships. "Hold on girl." Captain Becon grunted. "I'm trying sir." Laffey groaned in reply. The fires raged, the water came and the blood flowed, both hers and her crews and it stained the water crimson. By the time the battle was over, Laffey had taken 7 kamikaze's and bombs from four others. 11 in total. Her stern was a mess, the top deck completely torn apart, exposing all her guts. Some hanged down over the side and dragged in the water. Shrapnel from another kamikaze that struck her at the bow had struck her eyes, blinding her. Fletcher was shocked at the state of her fellow destroyer. They weren't sisters. Laffey was an Allen M. Sumner class but the younger ship saw Fletcher as a sister. "You're a mess." The older destroyer said. "I feel like one." Laffey groaned. The flooding was being contained by 2 bulkheads and her pumps were doing their job. Damage control crews managed to put out the fires as well but she was still in danger. The flow of blood was like a red tide and just as relentless. Nothing Fletcher or any one of her crew did could stop it. "I'm taking you back to Saipan." She growled. "Don't you slip away suddenly." "I have no plans to." Laffey groaned. Fletcher looked skyward. "Think they'll be back?" She asked. "I hope so." Laffey replied. "I want a rematch." Fletcher laughed. "Come on you!" She growled and took her under tow.

The journey back to Saipan took a little over a day and by that time, Laffey was on her last legs. Fletcher had called ahead and Enterprise raced out of the base to greet her. She herself was there for repairs, having taken a kamikaze herself that blew off her forward elevator, causing massive damage below decks. She looked a great deal better now though, and carried Laffey the rest of the way to the medical berths. "Vestal!" She shouted. Vestal poked her head out of the herb store. "Over here En!" She called. "Where else would I be?" She muttered. "I need a hand here!" Enterprise shouted. "On my way. What do you need?" Vestal asked. "Marigold, goldenrod and cobwebs. Lots and lots of cobwebs!" Enterprise called back. Vestal grabbed said items and raced over. Laffey's wounds hadn't ceased their bleeding in the slightest. Try as Vestal might, she couldn't seem to stop the flow of blood. It just wouldn't clot. "Hemophilia." She sighed. "I should've known. Sumner-class destroyers are riddled with health problems." Enterprise nodded. "What do we do?" She asked. I can't tell though if it's hemophilia A or hemophilia B." Vestal said. "If I knew, then I could try and treat it." "How do we find out?" Enterprise asked. Vestal handed her a blood sample. "Take this to the lab and have them run the tests. Tell them we need results back within 2 hours." She ordered. Enterprise nodded and raced off. Vestal turned her attention back to Laffey. "You still with me?" She asked. "Yeah, I'm still here." Laffey groaned. "It's Laffey isn't it?" Vestal asked. "Y-Yes." Laffey groaned out. "Do I really have hemophilia?" She asked. "Yes and it's no surprise really. Sumner herself was diagnosed with hemophilia B last year. Your class is riddled with all sorts of health problems ranging from shellfish allergies to heart conditions to immunity disorders. You're a physicians worst nightmare!" Vestal replied. "Geeze, thanks." Laffey snorted. "Hopefully the lab isn't too busy and we'll have the results back soon." Vestal said. "Then I can treat you." She pressed more cobwebs to Laffey's wounds. She couldn't stop the blood flowing, and the fine thread was soon soaked bright red but at least it acted like the destroyer's skin and held the rest in somewhat. "It's a wonder you're still alive." Vestal said. "Taking 7 kamikaze's?!" Laffey chuckled. "Well I wasn't just going to stand by and let them sink me, again!" She added as an afterthought. "Hmph, as foolish and brave as your predecessor. You're a health risk and a hot head. Not the best combination I've seen." Vestal said. Laffey snickered. "I'm sorry." She said though she didn't really sound sorry at all. Vestal chuckled. "Just keep talking to me, stay awake." She ordered.

The pair talked for another 30 minutes before Enterprise returned with the results. "It's hemophilia B. Like Sumner." She said. "I thought so. The condition is usually genetic after all. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole class had it." Vestal grunted and quickly went about injecting clotting factor into the ailing ship. "Now you are going to remain right here for a full week before you even think about moving into drydock or moving anywhere for that matter!" Vestal growled. "But my rations have been human food!" Laffey retorted. "I'll have to use the latrine at some point." "Use a bucket, find that works for most patients. And just to ensure you don't move!" Vestal and Enterprise tied the destroyer down on her side so she couldn't move. "Now be a good girl, take a nap and I'll bring you something good for dinner." Vestal ordered. "Make it salmon." Laffey begged. "I love salmon." Vestal chuckled. "If you're good, I'll bring you some sockeye. So be good, alright!" She ordered. "Yes 'em." Laffey murmured sleepily. Vestal smiled and nuzzled her. "Sweet dreams Laffey." She murmured and let the young ship rest.

...

Back in Charleston, the drydock worker watched as Laffey succumbed to sleep just as she did all those years ago. Her memories faded to black as the unconscious world of dreams took its place. The man smiled, knowing that if Laffey was well enough to rest, then she was going to be just fine. "Sweet dreams, Laffey." He said and leaned down to kiss her nose before returning to work. No one noticed the medical bag he had left lying on the dock.


	41. Tragedy at Guadalcanal

Fleet deputy USS Chicago sailed in the center of the task force consisting of cruisers, destroyers, and transports. Her job was to see these transports, filled with marines, ashore to help the war weary force on Guadalcanal. "I'm bored!" Louisville whined. Chicago laughed. "Good because if you're bored nothing's happening." She said. "But that's the problem!" Louisville wailed. Chicago rolled her eyes. "You're a weird one." She said. Louisville grinned. "It's a gift." She replied.

A buzzing sound reached Chicago's ears and she strained to listen. "Planes, at this hour?" Louisville said. "We don't fly planes at night though, do we?" "No, that means..." Chicago's sentence was cut off as the planes revealed themselves to be twin engine Betty torpedo bombers and opened fire. "Louisville you jinxed it!" Chicago shouted. Louisville chuckled. "Sorry, sis!" She called back as she let loose with her guns. "Bring it you over sized flying tin cans!" Chicago snarled. "I've been wanting a fight with you lot!" Louisville added. One Betty took a direct hit and fell screaming into the sea below. "Yeah! Right in the kisser!" Louisville shrieked triumphantly. "Save some for me would ya?" Chicago grumbled. "Hehe, sorry." Louisville replied. Chicago cried out suddenly. Louisville whirled around. "What happened?" She demanded. "Torpedo." Chicago groaned. "There must be a submarine out here." Louisville realized. "You hold on sis, I'm a comin'." She said and raced over. A towline was attached to her rear 8 inch turret and fastened to Chicago's bow. Louisville then took her sister under tow at a slow five knots. "Shit, this is just like Hornet!" Chicago called. "Don't do this Louisville." "Like I'm gonna stand by and let you sink. I won't let you go down like Hornet. I promise." Louisville called back. "Don't be a fool!" Chicago hissed. "I'm calling in Enterprise. She'll provide air cover for us while I get you to safety." Louisville replied. "Please hurry." Chicago begged. "I'm a sitting duck like this." "So am I." Louisville agreed. She was pushing it as hard as she could but she still couldn't manage anything more than five knots.

Morning came and Enterprise's planes flew overhead, guarding the skies. "Nothing yet!" One called down to Chicago. The fleet tug Navaho came up alongside her and took over towing duties. Louisville fell back behind her sister. "Looking good, sis!" She called. "Thanks." Chicago called back. "We keep this up, I'll be in the clear by lunchtime." She spoke too soon.

Betty bombers swarmed out of the sky and Enterprise's Grim Reaper squadron raced in to intercept. They took out all but four of their enemies. Somehow, those four managed to make it through the barrage of gunfire and flak from the fleet below and made a run on Chicago. Chicago had already taken two torpedoes, another would do her in for sure. "Chicago watch out!" Louisville cried. Navaho desperately tried to turn Chicago around, facing the enemy so she'd present less of a target. Just as she did so, three torpedoes impacted on her stern. "God damn it!" Chicago swore. "Chicago, oh my are you alright?!" Louisville cried. "No I am not alright. Make that five torpedoes I've taken." Chicago groaned. Navaho knew as well as she did that it was hopeless now and she dropped the towline. Louisville teared up at that. "Chicago..." She whispered. Chicago smiled at her. "It's alright. It was bound to happen eventually." She said. "Chicago, sister, please..." Louisville begged. Chicago nuzzled her. "Tell me, are the transports safe?" She asked. "Y-yes. Not one of them were injured. You took all the ordinance." Louisville replied. "Good. Then I've done my duty." Chicago replied, her head drooping. "Chicago." Louisville whimpered, trying to hold her sister above water. "Don't." Chicago begged her. "It's useless. I'm sinking." Water was rising through every compartment, making her exceptionally heavy. She began to roll on her starboard side, her weight becoming unbalanced by her heavy superstructure. The heat from the fires reached her forward powder magazine and her forward guns fired a ghostly salute to her men. Chicago's green eyes locked on her sister's hazel ones, strangely blank and glassy. "No..." Louisville moaned, holding her sister tightly against her. "Don't go Chicago, please!" She sobbed. "Let her go, Louise." Navaho sighed. "We did what we can. Now let her go." Swallowing hard, Louisville gently closed her sister's eyes. "Goodbye." She whispered and backed off, watching as her sister's lifeless form sank to the open depths.

"It can't be true!" Pennsylvania wailed upon hearing the news. Enterprise bowed her head. It'd been up to her to tell her leader. "My squadron saw the whole thing." She replied. Pennsylvania turned away, her stern facing the carrier. She was silent. "Penn?" Enterprise asked, moving forward. "I won't choose another deputy." Pennsylvania said quietly. "Not yet. I need time." "I understand." Enterprise murmured, nuzzling her gently. "First Northampton, then Chicago. How many more must die?!" Pennsylvania wailed. "This is war, Penn. I don't know. I really don't know." Enterprise answered. Sh


	42. Through the Flames

January 14, 1969

Enterprise regretted sending New Jersey away as soon as she'd done so. The healer was an invaluable part of her task force. Her skills were extremely important to those unfortunate ships that took hits from the Vietnamese. And her guns a good defense against any attackers. It was those guns that were the reason why Enterprise made her seemingly rash decision. New Jersey had seen combat before in both World War 2 and Korea. Enterprise's memory of those times was hazy as any ship with a reincarnation under her keel had experienced. But she did recall very clearly that New Jersey never focused on the battle. She always focused on the ships around her, watching for any signs of injury. This prevented her from having any practice with her battle instincts. Every battleship had them and when they got out of hand, the results were often disastrous. As New Jersey truly felt war for the first time, she had no idea how to react to the rising desire for battle. It was a learning curve with deadly consequences. Enterprise believed she made the right choice in sending New Jersey away. But it also could've been the wrong one. As the ships around New Jersey could be bait for her instincts but also a distraction from them. _"Keep your friends close."_ The saying went. Had Enterprise been wrong in sending the healer away? She sincerely hoped not. But the seeds of doubt had been planted and like plants they sprouted and grew.

20 miles away New Jersey slowed to a halt, panting from the exertion of her previous efforts. She'd ranted and raged, sliced at the sea as though it was her enemy. Now exhaustion took its toll. "NJ." She panted. "You need more exercise." She glanced back once at the carrier group, easily recognizing Enterprise for her unique profile. Sighing, the battleship pointed her bow for the open sea. Enterprise was right, she was a danger to herself as well as her friends. The best thing she could do was get as far away from them as she could and operate alone for the remainder of her tour here. And she did just that.

...

"Missouri, telephone!"

Missouri wasn't entirely surprised to hear that cry. She'd been expecting an update from Enterprise ever since New Jersey joined her deputy's task force. Enterprise was only 9 years old, and still lacked the experience that Kidd had when Missouri chose her but then again so did Missouri herself when Pennsylvania asked her. Missouri sometimes wondered why she was chosen. There were plenty of other ships to choose from, ones who had far more experience in the war than her. Maybe Pennsylvania felt it unlucky to choose someone with experience. After all, her three previous deputies had that and they all died. Missouri would never know for certain. All she did know was she had to do her best to live up to her leader's legacy. The battleship wondered if Enterprise felt that way as well.

"Give me the phone." She ordered. "Enterprise, report!"

"I believe I made a terrible mistake, ma'am." There was no mistaking the regret in the carrier's voice.

"Explain." Missouri ordered sharply, keeping her voice level. The last thing Enterprise needed was a scolding.

"I-I ordered New Jersey away. I don't know if that was the right decision." Enterprise said.

"Why did you order her away, Enterprise? You wouldn't have done so without a good reason. I know that." Missouri answered.

"She-her battle instincts are primed, ma'am. And she has no experience in controlling them." Enterprise answered.

"I see. So you feared for your task force." Missouri said. "Why doubt your decision? It's a logically sound assumption. No ship should be allowed to remain in an area where she is a danger to herself and others."

"I know that but in the past, New Jersey has relied upon company to distract her from the thrill of battle and it's worked. It worked in World War 2 and Korea." Enterprise said.

"So you think that by sending her away, you may've deprived her of this. Causing the very instinct driven assault you feared." Missouri was beginning to understand her deputy's uncertainty. She couldn't blame her for second guessing herself. Battleship instincts were a tricky business. Not even other battleships could always make the right call on them.

"You know I can't tell you what to do." She murmured.

"I know. You want me to learn how to run this fleet on my own time in my own way." Enterprise sighed.

"No. Well yes but no. You made a tough call En and you must stick with it. Battleship instincts are a tricky thing to work with and Ancients know that I and not even Pennsylvania always made the right decisions." Missouri replied.

"I understand ma'am."

"How many times most I tell you until you get it right. Call me Missouri." The battleship rolled her eyes. That was the problem with new deputies, they always clung firmly to rank.

"Yes ma'am."

Missouri sighed. "You're doing fine Enterprise. Don't doubt yourself then you really will have problems." She said.

"Understood."

Missouri placed the telephone back in its holder. Enterprise was a good ship. She was a hard worker and her heart was in the right place. It always was. Her only issue was her self-confidence. It was at an all time low. Missouri had hoped that by sending her to Vietnam and putting her in charge there would help her work on her leadership skills and give a bit of a boost. So far that plan wasn't working too well.

...

Enterprise knew Vietnam was in the tropics so heat was expected but this was absolutely sweltering. Despite her light gray coat, suited for this type of weather, the carrier still sweated buckets in the humidity. None of it evaporated. Her escorts were feeling it too.

"Ugh, this is torture!" Rodgers, a Gearing-class destroyer complained.

"Just have to suck it up, buttercup! Quit your whining!" retorted Gearing herself. The class pathfinder was a mouthy, hard-sailing veteran like her cousin Fletcher. Enterprise found that she liked the destroyer's attitude. It was something the navy seemed to lack more and more nowadays.

"I'm not whinin' I'm a'complainin!" Rodger snapped back.

Enterprise hid her smile as she listened to the pair argue. The sight took her back to World War 2 when her Fletcher's argued amongst themselves, always placing bets on who would shoot down the most planes, the next plane etc.

...

April 1945

"$10 says I get the next Zero." said Kidd.

"You?! Oh please you can't even hit those stupid Vals!" Fletcher laughed. "I place $20 on Young to hit 5 planes."

"You flatter me, sis." Young blushed.

"Just bein' honest." Fletcher winked.

South Dakota decided to join in the fun. "$35 says I spot the first aircraft." She said.

"I'll match that." Iowa agreed.

Enterprise didn't usually join in her task force's games, especially not betting games. She'd learned her lesson in 1941 when Indianapolis caught her in a bad bluff at a high stakes game of cards. Her wallet and that of the majority of the fleet, still hurt. This time though, something compelled her.

"$1000 that Porter downs a kamikaze without injuring any of us." She said.

The other ships looked at her like she was crazy.

"Enterprise, are you sure?" Indianapolis asked hesitantly.

Enterprise looked at her deputy. "Call it, a carrier's intuition." She said.

As it turns out, Enterprise was right. Porter did indeed down a kamikaze without injuring any of her fellow ships. She'd died herself in the attempt but it still counted.

"Cough up girls!" Enterprise giggled, absolutely giddy at all the dough she was about to receive. Nearly $10000 dollars worth.

Her task force all gave her the money they owed her. All had agreed to the bet as none had expected her to win. Indianapolis frowned as she handed her measure over. "How did you know?" She asked.

Enterprise shrugged. "As I said, carrier's intuition." She replied.

...

Enterprise was snapped out of her flashback by an uncomfortable heat originating from her flight deck. She turned her attention to it just in time to see an aircraft, previously parked as it was being readied with ammo, burst into flames. Enterprise yelped, feeling the heat lick her flight deck and grope down her sides. Fire was every ships worst nightmare. Enterprise remembered that all too well. The last time she'd caught fire was in 1945 when a kamikaze slammed into her forward flight deck, igniting stored fuel and blowing her forward elevator a 1000 feet into the air. With this in mind, the carrier panicked.

"Rodgers, Gearing, Stoddert, help me!" She wailed.

The three destroyers made an instant 180 at her cry and the rest of the task force closed in a protective circle around her. The carrier whimpered as the flames grew, engulfing her stern. Images crowded her mind. _The kamikaze, its determined eyes focused straight on her. Even with its wings torn to pieces it still kept coming._

"Enterprise, keep still. I'll get the hoses!" Rodgers growled.

 _Its amber eyes narrowed in concentration. Even as they became clouded by death. Enterprise's own face filled with fear reflective in its eyes as it drew ever closer..._

"She's going into shock, I don't know how I'm supposed to... New Jersey?!" Rodgers was never more happy to see the healer in her life.

New Jersey's green eyes were narrowed, focused on only one thing. Her patient. "Step aside tin can." She growled. "I've got work to do."

Rodgers did, slowly as she was stunned. The battleship used her bulk to shove the destroyer out of the way. New Jersey was a blur for the next few minutes, working so fast that the little destroyer's eyes couldn't possibly hope to keep up.

The fire still burned and New Jersey worked on putting patches to the wounds as her crew used her hoses to put the flames out. She was more than concerned about Enterprise's lack of movement. And then a new concerned emerged, one that New Jersey's superior nose could detect. "Back the lot of you!" She roared. The task force didn't question her. They all retreated to a 1/2 mile. A distance deemed safe by the nuclear engineers in the event of a fallout.

New Jersey was racing against the clock. Enterprise's wounds themselves weren't serious but it was what they'd done that was. As Enterprise went into shock, her reactor worked even harder to keep her alive. More fresh blood flowed into the sea, filled with radioactive elements. New Jersey expected nothing less from a nuclear ship. Still though, she had to be very careful, limiting her contact with the poisonous blood. It would be like acid to her hull.

But eventually, the situation became dire enough for New Jersey to throw caution to the wind. Despite her best efforts, she was losing Enterprise. The carrier was slipping into a shock induced coma. If she did that now, New Jersey would never rouse her. The healer had to work fast. And work fast she did, getting up close and personal with the carrier's wounds. She pressed her own hull to some as she welded shut the others. She didn't even wince as Enterprise's blood burned her hull plating. The carrier was her first priority and her only priority now.

After several hours, New Jersey took a step back. Enterprise's hull was sealed and the carrier listed only slightly, something that was being corrected as her crew pumped out the water. At the end of it all, she carried 29 less crewman than before but that was a small price to pay compared to what it could've been. Enterprise stirred slightly.

"Enterprise?" New Jersey asked from her position beside the carrier. She'd watched over her for several days, coordinating air strikes with the carrier's squadrons. She nuzzled her former mentor, kissing her cheek. "Ennie?" She tried again. Enterprise twitched her props a quarter turn. A signal to New Jersey that she could hear her.

"Mmmph!" Enterprise moaned when she felt New Jersey's lips mash against hers. Her eyelids flickered open, blue meeting green. "Well this is a nice surprise." She said, pulling back for just a moment. "I should fall unconscious more often."

"Stop it! Stop it!" New Jersey cried, falling against the carrier. "You had me so worried!"

"I'm sorry." Enterprise murmured, curling around the battleship. "For everything New Jersey."

"Don't just don't. You were right to send me away. I was a danger, I still am." New Jersey replied.

"I find that hard to believe, looking at you now." Enterprise smiled. She saw the battleship's burns. "How'd you get those?" She asked. "They don't look like scorch marks."

"They're not." New Jersey muttered. "Apparently my hull and radioactive DNA don't mix."

"I guess I never thought of that. Sorry." Enterprise muttered.

"How could you have known. You're the experiment. There's a lot you and the rest of us don't know." New Jersey said.

"True I suppose. Still sorry." Enterprise added.

New Jersey scowled. "You are too guilt driven for your own good." She said.

"And you're too flattering." Enterprise shot back.

The two shared a laugh. "How long has it been, since we last hung out?" Enterprise asked.

Enterprise thought. "A while." She replied after a minute. "I believe it was right after Korea. Though since we were both aware of my fate then I wouldn't call it a happy time."

"True." New Jersey sighed. "You have time?" She asked.

Enterprise smiled down at her. "I do but only if you let me treat those wounds." She said.

"Who's the healer around here?" New Jersey snarked.

"Technically you but since I'm the older one, you have to do as I say." Enterprise said.

"Older one?! I don't think reincarnation counts!" New Jersey shot back. "And if it did I'd be the older one. I was born first."

"You were not!" Enterprise growled back.

 _"I so was!"_

"You were not!"

1 mile distant, Rodgers listened as the two argued. She had an open phone line to Bremerton. On the other end, Missouri laughed. "Going at it so I can hear." She said.

"All's well here Mo. But I doubt my ears can stand much more." Rodgers grumbled.

The battleship laughed again. "Sorry Rodgers but all's fair in love and war. You'll just have to deal with it." She said. "And I know that Gearing would tell you the same thing."

Said destroyer grinned. "Damn straight!" She sang.

"Ugh..." Rodgers groaned, trying to tune out her fleetmate's laughing and her deputy and healer's friendly arguing.


	43. New Years Party 2015

"A bit more to the left."

"Watch where you're putting that."

"Baltic, who put you in charge of this set up anyways?!"

Olympic watched with some amusement as Baltic ordered the fleet about, setting up various equipment for the New Year's party. Though renowned across the Atlantic for her clumsiness, the little ship was actually quite smart. She was well advanced in the art of pyrotechnics. Last year, she'd thrown up a huge party in celebration for the 70th anniversary of the successful D-day landings. This year she was fully expected to rival that at New Years. Olympic had no reason to doubt Baltic's abilities but she was a bit apprehensive. When it came to fireworks, Baltic was unmatched in skill but she did have a habit of overdoing it sometimes.

Olympic heard the sound of another ship approaching before a soft muzzle pressed itself to her side. "Hello Maury." She purred, turning her head to eye her mate of 70 years. The two had been together since the end of World War 2. After the loss of Arizona, it'd taken several years for Olympic to come around. And when she did, she found she was closer to Mauretania than she'd realized before. Arizona had given her approval and the two had been together ever since.

"Hello Olympic." The Cunard liner purred back. "Ensuring all goes well this year?"

"Well, when it comes to Baltic, you never know." Olympic replied.

Mauretania barked a laugh. "True, so true." She murmured. "Say, I found this lovely berth at the far end of the harbor that has our names written all over it." She rubbed against the larger White Star ship.

Olympic leaned into that touch before she stopped herself. "I have work to do Maury." She said.

"So do I." Mauretania agreed. "It's called getting you to relax."

Olympic laughed. "Persistent." She said. She nibbled the other ship's nose. "Give me a few minutes, I'll meet you there."

...

When Olympic arrived the berth Mauretania had pointed out she was surprised to find her mate was not there. Just as she was about to look around for her, she was side tackled. "Eep!" Mauretania had ambushed her and the next thing Olympic knew was she was on her back, kissing the Cunard liner for all she was worth.

"Did I startle you?" Mauretania's hazel eyes were alight with mischief and Olympic couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes you did. But in a good way." She added, nuzzling her neck.

Mauretania's purrs vibrated her from bow to stern. The Cunard liner rested herself atop her larger mate, rubbing their slits together. Olympic's eyes slipped closed and she moaned. "Maury.." She gasped.

"Patience." The Cunard liner teased. She had no intentions of making this mating session go by quickly. Oh no, she was going to bide her time. She shifted her weight down, lowering her head and sucking on Olympic's outer mammory glands. She gave a small chuckle as the White Star liner quivered beneath her. "As I said, patience." She chided.

"Maury..." Olympic whined.

"Patience." Olympic huffed as for the third time Mauretania reminded her. The Cunard liner took her sweet time, tongue gently tracing around the edges of Olympic's slit.

"You need to clean more." She told her as she nipped a barnacle free.

"I haven't seen a drydock in 5 years Maury, give me a break." Olympic grumbled back. This earned her another laugh from her mate.

Mauretania's tongue worked until the area around the slit was clean and free of any rough materials. By then, Olympic's fluids were positively flooding from the 10 foot opening in her aft keel. "Maury, please..." The big ship begged. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

"Patience, Olympic. Try patience." Mauretania purred back.

Patience? Damn patience! Whoever thought of the word patience should be damned to hell. Olympic moaned in longing as Mauretania teasingly licked the tips of her mammory glands, just touching the inner rim of her slit. "Mauretania!" She wailed.

Mauretania laughed, nosing her slit experimentally. "Quite full I see." She said, and began lapping up the fluids, savoring the taste. Her tongue strokes were soft, gentle, and agonizingly slow. She was still teasing Olympic who growled in frustration. Why was she making her wait so? It was worse than torture!

Mauretania chuckled to herself as she heard her mate growl. Olympic had an impatient nature, and could be easily frustrated by lack of action. But the Cunard liner had her own reasons for making her wait. Sometimes it was good to slow things down.

Mauretania finished lapping up the small lake of fluids that had collected at the rim of Olympic's slit. Feeling she'd made her mate suffer enough, the Cunard liner dove her muzzle straight in, delivering a sharp toothed bite to Olympic's clit, tugging on it experimentally.

"Yesss!" Olympic moaned, arching into the contact. Mauretania's muzzle could only go in so far and the Cunard liner was soon forced to pull back. Olympic whined at the loss but her amber eyes brightened when she saw her mate pull out one of their many toys used for this sort of occasion. This one designed to mimic the movements of a large male penis. Olympic eyed it with a certain hunger, ready for Mauretania to shove it up to its hilt down her canal. But her mate didn't.

Showing the same restraint she had previously, Mauretania went back to teasing Olympic with small touches and pokes around the edges of her slit. Olympic whined, begged and pleaded but nothing she said or did could get Mauretania to snap. Finally though, the Cunard liner growled.

"To hell with this!" She hissed and shoved the shaft hard down Olympic's passageway. The White Star liner squealed in sheer pleasure, long since numb to the pain. She felt only joy as Mauretania established a quick rhythm that steadily increased its tempo. The Cunard liner rolled on her side, her own slit swollen with arousal. Olympic wasted no time getting to work. Her tongue licked the area around it clean though there wasn't much debris covering it. Mauretania had been in drydock only a month before and her antifouling was still fresh. It came across as a sharp tang on the White Star ship's tongue but Olympic ignored it in favor for the more tasty treat. Her mate's fluids, already running from her weeping slit.

Olympic saw an opportunity for payback and deliberately poked and prodded at Mauretania's slit. Mauretania moaned, desperate for some form of relief. Olympic wasn't willing to give her it, yet. Mauretania's whimpers soon turned to desperate pleas which rang deaf in Olympic's ears. Eventually, Olympic gave into temptation and shoved her own toy into Mauretania's slit. She shoved it down to his base, retracting and inserting it in a constant rhythm. The toy had been dowsed in large amount of lubricant before Olympic had shoved it into her mate. That and Mauretania's slick passageway made it easier for Olympic to move it. The Cunard lighter squealed in delight, matching her own rhythm with her mate's.

Olympic's hips tightened and a surge of fluids overtook the toy on its last thrust. Mauretania came a second after her mate and the pair lay panting on the water, toys in hand, dripping their fluids into the water. Olympic raised her head first, eagerly licking her own fluids off Mauretania's toy. Mauretania did likewise, both ships purring each time their hulls contacted as the swell brought them together. Then, with the taste of fluid still in their mouths, they joined in a kiss. Tongues entwined and as they were jostled together and apart again, strands of saliva kept them joined. When they finally broke apart and the strands slapped down their chins, the two licked around their muzzles once, savoring the last taste of each other.

Olympic settled in first, resting against the dock as she made room for her mate. Mauretania's slimmer build allowed her to squeeze in beside the larger White Star ship. Olympic shifted her weight towards the center of the berth, curling around her mate.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you too." Mauretania replied.

Both ships were about to fall asleep when a loud bang startled them both awake. They leaped up and in the small berth there wasn't much room to go anywhere. They ended up banging their heads together. As they shook the ringing out of their ears, Olympic looked up to see what had caused the loud noise.

There, in the middle of the harbor was the steaming remains of what appeared to be a fireworks platform. Apparently it had gone off before it was supposed to. Olympic's amber eyes moved from the innocent remains of wood to the only ship that could possibly account for what happened. Baltic was eyeing the platform with a mixed expression of horror and amusement. Olympic had little doubt she'd triggered it on purpose.

Feeling the larger ship's gaze on her, Baltic turned to face her angry leader. "I'm sorry." She squeaked.

Olympic's eye twitched, a sure sign of her inner rage. She rose to her full imposing height, a menacing sight to be sure, especially in her current anger. She'd promised herself she wouldn't say it. She'd never say it again. But the word rose up through her larnex and into the chamber of her mouth before she could stop it and this time she made no effort to. She opened her mouth and from it came the loudest, most deafening roar that any ship had heard in decades.

 **"BALTIC!"**

THE END


	44. An Unexpected Joyride: Part 1

Long sense renowned for her firm but relatively gentle hand, Atlantis loved teaching. She loved sharing her knowledge with others. But this was was even she, with her endless patience, would consider "a hopeless case".

"Don't push off Tish, nothing will stop you unless your acted upon by an outside force!" She cried as said student pushed away from her and swung about violently before crashing into the wall.

"You can suit up in five minutes once you get the hang of it, Rudy." She said as the black kid struggled into his bulky white suit. She gave the arm a vigorous tug, allowing his fingers to wiggle their way out the end of the sleeve.

Out of all the tests, the chair was by far Atlantis' favorite. Some people passed, some didn't but almost all puked and she like her sisters took great pleasure out of watching them turn as green as a vegetable. "You've got 30 seconds Katherine." She said as she tightened the final strap.

"Understood." The human replied, giving her nose a pat.

Atlantis nudged her hand in response and backed away. "Start it up." She ordered the technician.

Slowly the chair began to spin, gaining speed with every rotation. "Come on Katherine you aren't a passenger now, you're a pilot!" Atlantis called. "Don't move your head left or right just concentrate on the stick."

Katherine pulled back on the controls. She'd stopped rolling but she still yawed far from side to side. "Come on Katherine, you can do it." Atlantis muttered.

"10 seconds!" The technician called out.

"Come on Katherine, fly it!" Atlantis cried.

Katherine tried to stabilize the chair but it was no use. Atlantis couldn't hide her disappointment as she ordered the technician to shut it off.

The human girl was glum as she stumbled out. She wasn't even pale, Atlantis had to give her that at least. Not many emerged from the chair the first time without looking at least a little bit off color. "I-I'm sorry Atlantis." She said.

"You'll get it." was the shuttle's stoic reply.


	45. An Unexpected Joyride: Part 2

"Please."

"No!"

"Pretty please."

"No!"

"Pretty, pretty please?"

 _"No!"_

"Pretty please with a cherry on top!"

Atlantis and Max had been at this for several hours and the boy showed no signs of stopping. Atlantis had to admit, the boy was persistent. But what he was asking was impossible! Her, take him an inexperienced civilian with little training, into space?! Out of the question!A few months ago, Atlantis would've jumped at the chance. The competition amongst the Shuttle Fleet to take the first civilian into space was high. Well look how well that turned out!

The thought of her deceased sister made Atlantis' heart twinge and she worked to keep her voice level as she said "What part of no don't you understand?!" She asked with a sigh.

"Only that you're being a spoilsport." Max pouted.

"I am _not_ being a spoilsport I'm being realistic here. There is no way in hell I'm taking you even a foot of the ground, no way!" Atlantis hissed.

Their argument was interupted by the sound of a bugle call. NASA allowed its shuttles to wonder free on base as long as they stayed out of trouble. But they always made sure they could hear when dinner was served. Atlantis straightened up and gave an answering bark.

"You win this round." Max said with a sigh. "But I'll be back Atlantis."

"Oh I'm sure you will." The shuttle snorted as the kid left.

...

Max was back early the next morning and he had reinforcements. Katheryn was with him this time. He started off by sneaking into Atlantis' hanger while she was sleeping and climbed onto the rafters before dropping down on her back with a clang. This woke Atlantis who yelped, leaping upright. Max lost his balance and would've fallen if Atlantis hadn't deployed her cargo arm at the last second, catching him by the ankle.

The kid had the decency to look sheepish. "Um, morning." He said.

An annoyed growl was his answer and he was set down rather roughly on the ground. "Don't you have to be somewhere?" Atlantis asked, stifling a yawn.

"Um no?"

"So you thought it okay to come and pester me. Real nice kid. Yeah, that'll earn you some brownie points." The shuttle snorted, this time yawning for real. Her big canines became fully visible and Max actually shrunk back a bit.

"Sorry." He shrugged.

Atlantis didn't think he really was but she let him have this one freebie. "You're scheduled for a tour after lunch. Go on." She shooed him out of her hanger. "Hmph, kids." She snorted, settling back down to hopefully get an hour more of rest. She'd gone to bed late the previous night. Columbia had come down with fuel poisoning and she'd been taking care of her until Discovery took over.

...

Atlantis' reprieve lasted only until lunch when all the kids were allowed to have a tour of her. Max and Katherine climbed onto her wing, being extra gentle as they clambered up onto her back. Max started bouncing up and down.

"Please. Please, please, please, please, please!" He begged.

Atlantis stifled a groan. _"Here we go again."_ She thought.

Katherine was more mellow and began stroking the shuttle's side. "I think it would be rather exciting."

"And dangerous!" Atlantis growled. "The last time ended badly."

"We know." Max's tone had taken a more somber tone.

"Don't think I haven't forgotten. That was my sister for star's sake!" Atlantis cried.

"I guess I didn't think of it that way." Katherine mused.

"But Challenger," Atlantis winced when Max used her deceased sister's name. "died in adverse conditions. It was far too cold for her to be launched and everyone knew it."

Atlantis had her own forbiddings that morning yes but she wasn't willing to tell these kids that. Instead she replied "We don't know if it was the weather. We don't really know anything!" Though she was beginning to warm up to idea of a quick jaunt, if only to get these kids to shut up about it!

Max seemed to sense her indecision for her lie down on his stomach and leaned over her forehead, looking her right in the eyes with a big pout face. "Please?" He asked again quietly.

Five months ago, Atlantis would've just ignored the "puppy eyes" trick and that would've been the end of it. But there was something about the boy's face that reminded her starkly of Challenger when she wanted something. And Atlantis had never been able to refuse that face.

"Ugh, oh..." Atlantis grumbled. She finally glared up at the boy. "This is cruel and unusual punishment." She said. "So you better suit up. I'm not going to be gentle about it."

Max grinned, leaping upright so fast that Atlantis had to wonder if he was all human. "OH YESSSS!" He cried.


	46. A Unexpected Joyride: Part 3

"What have I gotten myself into?" Atlantis groaned. She was all fueled up and ready to go, her 7 passengers were strapped in tight. She fired up the starboard booster first which sent her into a spin. She quickly spun up the port and straightened out, lifting off the ground once she reached 85 knots. She continued to pick up speed with altitude. "Hold on to your helmets, you might need them." She called.

"For what?" Kevin asked just in time to hear Max retch into his.

"For that." Atlantis was unable to hide her smirk. Served the kid right for pestering her so much.

Passing 50,000 feet Atlantis rolled on her back, enjoying the feel of the wind as it passed her. It'd been too long. But when it came time for throttle up, the shuttle hesitated. Challenger was too fresh and strong in her mind, she couldn't cope with it.

Kevin quickly took the controls. "Trust me girl." He murmured and pulled the right levels.

Atlantis accelerated, her jaw unclenching as she passed that stage of the launch. "Kevin, thank you." She murmured.

Kevin gave her console a pat before allowing her control once more as she reached the outer edges of earth's atmosphere. The solid rocket boosters were jettisoned and the distinctive orange fuel tank shortly thereafter. Blue faded to cobalt which faded to inky black.

Max's puke began to float out of his helmet much to the disgust of the others. Atlantis however merely chuckled. "Welcome to space, kids." She said.


	47. An Unexpected Joyride: Part 4

It was several hours in that Kevin noticed something was wrong. "The readings we've got. The oxygen levels are way off. We'd never reach Edwards on this load." He said.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Atlantis scolded herself. Of all the idiotic oversights... The shuttle smacked her face with her cargo arm, biting her own wing in her frustration. She'd often turn to self harm as a means to cope with her intense emotions, particularly after Challenger. It beat taking it out on others who didn't deserve it.

"Atlantis stop!" Max cried, horrified by the thick gobs of blood that drifted past the cockpit windows. Katheryn cradled his head in her arms, making soothing noises.

By the time Atlantis was done, she'd made sufficient gouges in both wings. They would heal though before it came time to re-enter earth's atmosphere.

...

Docking at Daedalus was tricky as the station was only half completed but it had the oxygen that her crew of children needed.

None of them could attach the oxygen tanks and so it was up to Max to do a spacewalk. He was more than a bit nervous.

"You'll do fine." She murmured.

"Um, thanks..."

Recalling his fondness for Star Wars, she added "Go get 'em Luke."

She lowered him to the station from her cargo arm. He grabbed the fuel tanks and rejoined the shuttle. Before he did Atlantis winked. "Nice job."

...

Edwards wasn't an option due to the stupidity of her crew. The only other option was White Sands. "If I overshoot that runway, it's a saltwater bath Kate." Atlantis grumbled. "And I hate the ocean!"

"Well I better make sure you don't go in the drink now don't I." Katheryn grinned as she guided the shuttle towards her interface point.

Atlantis gracefully rolled back on her stomach. She'd been flying on her back this whole time though in space that term was relative. She could feel the first flickers of heat as they worked their way along her belly. As she picked up speed her wings stung from the bite wounds she'd given them but the thick heat shielding did its job.

The heat dissipated and leveling out at 150,000 feet, Atlantis banked hard to the right. Performing a series of tight turns to further slow her velocity. She'd need the slower speed if she'd ever have a shot at hitting this runway without getting wet. Cloud cover was minimal and she could see the Pacific Ocean even from this height. It looked tranquil though the body of water was far from aptly named.

"This is gonna be tight!" She called. And she could see that quite easily. It was not going to be an easy fit for sure.

She deployed her landing gear at 300 feet, coming in over the water at such a speed that she could see the surface turn frothy white along her path. As soon as she cleared the beach her wheels touched down on the very edge of the runway, one actually touched the thin grass strip at the edge. Every inch of tarmac indeed. As soon as her nose dropped, Atlantis put on the breaks. She had no chute which made this even tougher.

"No water. No water. Please no water." The shuttle muttered as the beach head grew closer and closer. Just when she thought she'd overshoot the runway and go right into the drink she stopped.

Panting the shuttle rolled off the runway and onto one of the side roads. The kids climbed out one by one. They all stood in front of her, heads respectfully bowed. They looked sorry for themselves as well they should! Atlantis' harsh glare swept over them. "Remind me never, _ever_ to listen to you brats again!" She roared.

"ATLANTIS!"

Max could've sworn he saw the shuttle leap 10 feet into the air at the sound of that voice. And as well she should. It belonged to the US fleet deputy, USS Enterprise and boy did the carrier look pissed. Max recalled that another of her forms was Atlantis' sister, the OV-101 currently a museum.

"What the fuck were you thinking you pile of scrap metal?!" The carrier roared. "A 'thermal curtain failure'? I saw right through that the instant you launched!"

Atlantis cowered as she was struck upside the head, the blow drawing a little bit of blood but she accepted her punishment. She had the option of refusing, she didn't take it.

"It wasn't her fault!" Both shuttle and carrier turned towards Max as the little human stepped forward.

Enterprise raised a brow while Atlantis looked shocked. Of course it was her fault. She'd allowed this to happen.

"I-I wanted to go into space. I harassed her endlessly about it. I pressured her into it. She didn't want to. She had concerns and they were valid, I realize that now. Please don't place all the blame on her. For the majority lies with me." Max said.

Atlantis to say the least was stunned at such a grownup statement coming from such a small mouth. "Max please..." She hissed. She'd done so much to ensure this child's safety, she wouldn't see him get in trouble for her own failures.

Max's gaze was hard. "No Atlantis." He growled. "I do share the blame. You need to stop blaming yourself. Things aren't always your fault. It wasn't your fault the oxygen tanks were not filled. And it wasn't your fault that your sister died! The top engineers couldn't change NASA's mind that day, what makes you think you could!"

Atlantis bowed her head. Yes, she'd blamed herself. Partly at least. She always had the nagging feeling that she could've done something, anything to prevent that tragedy. But she also knew that Max was right. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't her fault but pondering over it wouldn't do anyone any good. Least of all her and her crew. "I will, think about it." She allowed.

Max nodded, knowing that was as good an answer as he was going to get. He stroked the shuttle's nose and Atlantis lowered her head for him. This time, her eyes met his and forest green met hazel. Then Atlantis covered Max in huge licks that left him dripping slobber from head to toe.

A few of the elder students cringed but Max was grinning and Atlantis couldn't help but grin back.

...

Atlantis was not looking forward to the journey back to Florida. The 747 she usually rode on did not have the fuel capability to lug her heavy tail 2000 miles to Hawaii over open ocean. So it would have to be by boat. She sat in Enterprise's cargo hold as the carrier made the 12000 mile journey to Canaveral via the Cape of Good Hope. She could've just gone west to San Diego but it was deemed cheaper for the carrier to take her all the way. Atlantis was not a sailor and even though the big carrier was very stable, she still tossed a bit in heavy seas. Even in light seas Atlantis was queasy. And the sea sickness didn't let up. She was given some Dramamine which helped a little bit but for the most part Atlantis just had to grin and bear it.

By the time Enterprise reached Florida, Atlantis was so weak and wobbly she couldn't stand on her own. She was lowered from the cargo hold straight into a waiting truck and trailer. The fresh air helped ease the shuttle's discomfort and Atlantis looked a little better by the time she arrived on base. Discovery was waiting for her when she arrived. Her sister's gold eyes were dark with worry and this concern deepened when she found she had to bear most of Atlantis' weight.

"You look like hell tossed you in the sea and washed you ashore." She said.

"Haha, very funny." Atlantis snorted, her stomach still churning. "H-how's Columbia?"

Discovery bit her lip. "She's stopped throwing up for now at least but her fever's still very high. She's been asking for you."

"So she knows I left." Atlantis murmured.

"Knows? Hell sis we both heard your launch! It woke Columbia from a nap with a start. I've never seen her move so fast before. She was at the window in a flash, trying to see one last glimpse of you."

"I'm sorry." Atlantis said.

"Don't be." A new voice growled.

Atlantis straightened to face Columbia. The oldest shuttle was trembling with the effort of standing and her red eyes were glazed but she held her head high and her tail erect. She was flagship through and through.

Discovery frowned. "You should be resting." She accused.

"I woke up and my berth mate was gone. Then I heard you and Atlantis." She eyed her youngest sister. "You don't look so good."

"I've been on a ship for the past 5 days." Atlantis groaned.

Columbia chuckled. "Half our genetic code may be from battleships but put us in the water and we flounder like a drowning porpoise."

Atlantis shifted her weight, moving away from Discovery as she pressed her nose to her sister's wing. Briefly she was stunned by the amount of heat coming off that hull. Columbia lowered her head, her energies spent. Discovery helped her back to her hanger and Atlantis followed.

Columbia settled in first, curling up tight. Discovery lowered herself down beside her, resting her head over hers as she gently encouraged the ill shuttle to rest. Atlantis didn't have the strength to wonder to her own hanger so instead she folded up her landing gear and leaned into Columbia's leeward side. Sandwiched between Discovery and Atlantis, Columbia was the first asleep. Atlantis dropped off next. Discovery had already had a nap so she was wide awake. She merely rested her head over Columbia's flank, watching her two sister's sleep as she listened to the soothing beats of their strong hearts.


	48. The Promise of Freedom

INTREPID SHIP AIR AND SPACE MUSEUM OCTOBER 29, 2012

As Enterprise listened to the wind and rain outside two thoughts occupied her mind. First she was grateful to be in her enclosed pavilion. The ship whose flight deck she was resting on didn't have that luxury and she could feel it when Intrepid hunkered down, ready to receive the oncoming storm surges. The second thought was one that had all but consumed her since her days at the Smithsonian. The desire to fly free.

The Smithsonian wasn't a bad place to live and Enterprise was treated well there. She always enjoyed meeting new people. It was a spectacle to see the kids pet her nosecone and offer her treats while their bewildered parents stood awkwardly nearby. For those adults who could "see" her for what she truly was, like the museum staff, it was a rare refreshing treat. And one that Enterprise cherished for they could actually understand her. It was called the Smithsonian AIR AND SPACE museum for a reason. A Space Shuttle was unique in the world of aviation for they were the first genetically engineered hybrid designed cell by cell in the lab. Their main genome was half battleship and half Lockheed. The Lockheed was chosen over several other high flying aircraft because of its diversity and long standing record for outstanding military service. The Concorde was another obvious choice but was opted out because it lacked the biological diversity of the Lockheed and with genetics that was an important thing. It never ended well when you had something that was heavily overbred or the equivalent to it in this case. Each shuttle was different but Enterprise as one of the first prototypes leaned heavily on the Lockheed side of the family. Her language was very similar. She could speed battleship as well but it was heavily accented and there had been more than one occasion where something she'd been trying to say came out very wrong. So she spoke Lockheed most of the time with a few battleship vocabulary words slipped in there. Most of the museum staff at the Smithsonian was well versed in the language and had little trouble understanding her.

Here in New York it was a bit different. The museum staff could understand a variety of both aircraft and warship dialects. Most understood Lockheed but very few compared to the Smithsonian so Enterprise spoke more battleship than she had in the past. When she first used the language here, it hadn't gone well. Some of the museum staff stared at her with their jaws hanging open, some were quietly snickering and Intrepid, previously ignoring her, had snapped his head about to eye her with shock. Enterprise had no idea what got them and it was only later that she learned, through Intrepid that instead of a greeting she'd said something extremely vile and racist. Whoops! With some help from the carrier she'd learned how to better speak her second language.

"Its getting colder out there." She muttered to Intrepid. "Indeed." Enterprise braced herself as the carrier shook himself, trying to get the water off his flight deck. "It's really getting dark too. I really don't like the looks of those clouds." He said. "What do they look like?" She asked. If there was one thing she understood it was weather. "Whatever big dark and ugly low cumulus clouds look like." He replied. "How low?" She asked. "Hmm, less than 2000 feet. Not much of a ceiling. It's covered the antenna on the Freedom Tower. I can't even see the light." He said. "Aye, that's bad." She agreed. If Intrepid wasn't exaggerating, not that he usually did just sometimes he could get carried away, then they were in for one hell of a night. "You know more than you're letting on Enterprise." Intrepid said. Enterprise cursed silently. One downside to being anchored to a carrier was they came to know you a little too well. "I may've never made it into space but the one thing I studied intently was how weather affected flight patterns and in the process I could predict it better than most meteorologists." She said. "Well what's your verdict then, weatherwoman?" He asked, a teasing note in his voice. Enterprise rolled her eyes. "Within 2 hours this thing's gonna hit us and it's gonna hit hard. I estimate storm surges in excess of 10 feet and winds at least 90 mph. It's gonna be a long night." She replied and Intrepid groaned.

Enterprise was right and by nightfall Hurricane Sandy came to New York with a vengeance. The rain pounded against Enterprise's shelter and the wind grasped the thin fabric insulating the shuttle with every intention of removing it from its anchored position. It was as if the storm itself was attempting to show Enterprise that while she could predict weather she could not control it. It was in charge, it was in command.

A bright blue eye went up to the ceiling as keen ears picked up the sound of dripping water. Enterprise had a leak. The shuttle groaned and just attempted to ignore the annoying sound. She didn't mind getting wet. Being half battleship meant that water wasn't an issue for her like it was for most other aircraft. Sighing the shuttle went back to the book she'd been reading. Then the lights unexpectedly went out. "Great power failure." She groaned, her own running lights coming on. She didn't need lights to see in the dark. Her night vision extended beyond the visible spectrum. Her blue eyes flashed luminous as the infrared lid that helped her see came over them. "Intrepid, are the backups working?" She asked. "No." The carrier replied. _"T'avantamp."_ [1] Enterprise growled. The wind picked up and the cables holding her shelter to the flight deck groaned. Enterprise was neither surprised nor startled when they broke free snapping in every direction. Two lashed Enterprise across her tail and right side. The shuttle snarled in pain but it faded to a manageable dull throb quickly. And the rain, now coming in freely as the tarp was carried away, helped cool the hot sensation she felt on her skin. Enterprise rose to her landing gear and hunkered down as best she could. Intrepid was rolling heavily in the high swells that had now completely flooded the pier. Though an excellent swimmer, Enterprise had no desire to test her skill in those angry seas if she could help it.

Even with the wind howling and the rain pelting her from all directions, Enterprise managed to focus her thoughts. Her mind turned back to her heart's desire. Freedom, not just flying but flying in space. Something she knew she'd never get, not in this lifetime. The words of her predecessors came back to her. _"One day soon you will be at the forefront of a new age. Leading the fleet into the stars and things beyond your imagining."_ When would that day come? When she'd first been born as a space shuttle she'd assumed it'd be this life. After all she was the first official OV for NASA, even though Challenger had the lower number. She remembered those first few and only test flights. Gliding effortlessly like a bird across the sky, riding the winds like the days of sail so long ago.

Enterprise closed her eyes as a gust of wind blew across her nose. Instead of being bothered by it the shuttle merely sighed and breathed in the scents carried on the breeze. Her brain registered them individually, her keen sense of smell picking up several thousand different smells. But what may've been a watery hot dog stand or a flooded sewer were not known to Enterprise just then. The only thing she smelled on that wind was freedom. She would have her day. One day the promise would come true and she would have her space flight, leading the world into a new age. All she had to do now was wait. Enterprise was good at waiting. 200 years ago she was told she would leave the water one day. She'd laughed then and scoffed. _"How could anyone wish to leave the water?"_ She had asked. But she knew better now. For here she was, a queen of the skies. Patience was always a virtue and patience was something Enterprise had in abundance. So if she had to wait patiently another 200 years before her day would come, then that's what Enterprise would do.

[1] Battleship swear word. Has multiple meanings but in this contest it falls in the category of the S word.


	49. An Hour of Shame: Part 1

MEDITERRANEAN SEA MARCH 17 2003

Enterprise was fuming as she launched her aircraft. That team of marines needed her help and that help was hundreds of miles away offshore. If only her planes could fly faster and she urged them to move with speed and purpose. But the helpless feeling wasn't the only thing that got the carrier fuming. Al Queda operatives had the marines pinned down from their position inside a hospital. Using a building meant for the protection and welfare of lives as a base of operations for killing was the mark of a coward and Enterprise had no problem taking it out. If that hospital was being used for warfare, it was not a hospital. It was a legitimate military target.

"Target in sight." reported her first fighter. "Let the bombs fly, Papi. Take it out." She growled. Over the comms the distinctive sound of the bombs whistling away to the ground was heard moments before a loud explosion. There was a brief silence and then the fighter came back on. "...That was a little bigger than I thought." "What do you mean?" Enterprise knew something had gone wrong and she tensed. "Surrounding buildings were hit. Possible civilian casualties." The carrier bit back a curse. Collateral damage was a part of war. It was inevitable and Enterprise didn't think too much of it. She couldn't afford to, not when hundreds of American lives depended on her for support. "Rodger that, Papi. Return to the ship." She ordered. "Return to the ship, aye ma'am." Enterprise heaved a sigh. Once her fighters were back on board she turned and headed farther up the coast. No sense in hanging around now that the enemy knew she was there.

Enterprise was surprised when she received orders to return to the states. It was rare for a carrier such as her to be ordered back so early into a deployment. But she didn't dare question the order. It had come from the top. Missouri was awaiting her arrival in Pearl Harbor. When the carrier pulled into Hawaii a week later she noticed how grim the battleship looked. Something was very, very wrong and Enterprise did not like the jittery feeling she felt.

Once the salutes were exchanged Missouri said "Enterprise, I'm placing you under arrest." She nodded to two Ticonderoga-class cruisers who came forward and put thick chains around the carriers' rudder. As one finished tying those off the other came forward with a needle designed to cut off Enterprise's flow of uranium and help shut down her reactor. The carrier remained calm as she simply asked "Why?" "You've been charged with war crimes, Enterprise." Missouri replied, her face impassive as ever. "I am suspending you from further military service and removing you from your position as deputy of this fleet until the outcome of this hearing can be determined." Enterprise bowed her head. "Yes ma'am." She agreed. It wasn't in her nature to fight and she put up no resistance as she was towed to a drydock.


	50. An Hour of Shame: Part 2

Putting Enterprise under arrest had to be one of the hardest things Missouri had to do in her 60 year career. But she was under international pressure to comply. She knew her deputy was innocent. Enterprise couldn't so much as nudge a civilian let alone kill 32 and injure 18 more of them. It was a well played trap by Iraq and one that might have enough momentum to succeed. Missouri wasn't about to let it.

"Care to tell me what this is about?" Enterprise asked as Cole approached. The destroyer still bore the scar of the attack on her two years earlier and she moved with a slight limp but she was a valuable member of the carriers' task force. "Remember that group of marines being attacked outside Tirask?" She asked. Enterprise growled despite herself. "That's what this is about?" She asked. "We attack a hospital that's been turned into a military HQ and we're the ones being charged with war crimes? That's fucking bullshit!" "I know." Cole agreed. "And Missouri knows it too. That's why she's sending you the best of NATOs best lawyers to defend you. DMS Brandenburg will represent Germany. HMS Conqueror will represent Great Britain. FS Charles de Gaulle for France. And USS Los Angeles will be your American representative at the trial, Ticonderoga will be second chair." "A frigate, a cruiser, two submarines, and a fat lazy carrier. Oh yeah that's gonna be a huge help." Enterprise grumbled. "They may not seem like much on the battlefield but the courtroom is a whole different environment and they've proven they're the best." Cole said. "Well I sure hope you're right." Enterprise sighed but she still wasn't happy about the arrangement. She didn't like submarines and two of her lawyers happened to be just that.

The initial trials didn't go so well. Prosecution hampered the defense at every turn and Enterprise was just waiting for the opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine. If she hadn't been disarmed before she went into that court berthing, she would've finished the case then and there. But the more she heard them strike her defense team down, the more she felt that maybe they were right. Yes, she had ordered that airstrike. And yes, it was on a hospital. Maybe she was guilty. She certainly felt like it.

For the first time since this business began, she was allowed to see one visitor and she called on the only ship who's voice she wanted to hear right now. The guard ship who was Cole stood at attention as her flagship came forward. "You are relieved Cole, I can take it from here." Missouri ordered. Cole gave her leader a questioning glance before saluting and heading off to her berth for some chow.

"How's it going over there?" Missouri's optimistic tone once would've lifted the carriers' drowning spirit in a hurry, now it just made her feel queasy and the slightest bit angry. What right did Missouri have to feel happy when she was having her stern kicked all over the courtroom?! Keeping her voice and stance carefully neutral, so as not to alarm the battleship, Enterprise replied "You've watched the news I'm sure. You tell me." "Don't let the prosecution tear you up too much, Enterprise. Remember, they don't have the facts to support their claims." Missouri said sternly. Enterprise winced. Missouri was just too good at reading her to be fooled by her false front. "Missouri, they're using the facts to support their claims and they're doing it well." She said. "What are you saying?" Missouri asked. "That you believe you committed a war crime." "I don't know what I believe anymore." Enterprise replied honestly. "That night-I did fire on a hospital. I did order that strike and it not only destroyed that building but others around it. And I knew it would do that. I deliberately caused harm to civilians. Don't tell me that's not a war crime, Missouri." "Civilians are bound to die in war, Enterprise. It's inevitable you know that." Missouri sighed. "Doesn't make it right to kill them." Enterprise muttered. Missouri suddenly became angry. "Damn it Enterprise, you'd just roll over and allow them to put you in chains for this wouldn't you? Wouldn't you?!" She hissed. She struck Enterprise hard across the head. Enterprise cowered from the blow. Missouri continued. "You've always been too soft-hearted for your own good. You have no self advocate skills and you could care less about your own well being in this. Shit, Enterprise you're facing life in a drydock at minimum and that's if you get lucky! The needle would be the most likely outcome and that's a merciful death. You'd just as soon be sentenced to sink as a target! And you'd let that happen?!" Missouri struck her again. "Even if you come out of this on top, which at the rate you're going is unlikely, I'd just as soon keep Tico as my deputy. She at least acts like a real officer." Enterprise snarled at the second blow. "Tico knows how to fight for herself, Enterprise. A skill you lack, it's one you've always lacked. You've always been a coward Enterprise. That's what you are, a coward!"

Missouri's last comment was the final straw and the carrier lunged at the battleship with a furious roar. A brief scuffle and she had Missouri pinned, teeth a centimeter from her throat. Both ships breathed heavily. Missouri gazed up at the much larger ship currently pinning her against the harbor bottom with some uncertainty and fear. Had she pushed too far? She was only trying to get Enterprise to do what she should've done all along which was stand up for herself. Enterprise was the first to speak. "You set me up, didn't you?" She asked. Missouri neither confirmed nor denied it and the carrier backed off. Missouri righted herself and came alongside. "You knew I would snap, you just didn't know when. That's why you ordered the guard away when you came in. You had this planned." "Yes." Missouri's quiet voice made Enterprise pay all that more attention. "You've been so submissive as of late Enterprise. You needed a good kick to boost that sadly lacking ego of yours." "Missouri what you did was dangerous and foolhardy." Enterprise scolded, glaring down at her. "I could've seriously injured you." "Oh aye you could have. But you didn't eh." Missouri winked. "We've worked together for almost 40 years now Enterprise. I know what you can take and what you can't take. I walked a fine line, I'll admit it. But I knew where I was stepping the whole time." "Yes, I'm sure you did." Enterprise grumbled. Missouri sighed and prepared to take her leave. "Missouri?" The battleship paused as Enterprise called her back. "Yes, Enterprise?" "Thank you." Missouri smiled, returning to Enterprise's side to hug her. The carrier purred, resting her head against Missouri's shoulder. "I pray to the Ancients' you'll make it through this Enterprise." She whispered. "If I am innocent, I shall." Enterprise replied.


	51. An Hour of Shame: Part 3 (final part)

Ticonderoga was first up. "Were you aware PNS Zulfiquar that days before the bombing, Iraqi forces were storing weapons in your hospital?" She asked. "I was." The frigate replied. "It 'twas common knowledge." "Storing weapons and ammunition in a hospital, is that not a violation of the Geneva Convention?" "Objection, PNS Zulfiquar is not a legal authority nor is the Pakistani Navy on trial here." FS Horizon, the frigate serving as the lead prosecution, growled. "Sustained." ground out HMS Dauntless, one of the judges. Ticonderoga sighed. "How did it make you feel, as a medical professional, knowing that there were deadly weapons closest to your patients berths?" "I was uneasy." Zulfiquar allowed. "Did you protest?" "Yes. It did no good." "And when the Iraqi warships occupied the compound did you protest?" "Yes. They told us they were there to protect us from American and British aggressors." Zulfiquar replied, barely able to stifle a snort. Dauntless and Conqueror exchanged amused glances. "But you stayed, knowing that a battle was likely." Ticonderoga said. "There were patients still there. We had no choice but to stay!" Zulfiquar protested. "But your army had a choice didn't they? They could've left the hospital alone." Ticonderoga said. "So could yours. Yours could've gone around. You didn't have to bomb us. Such destruction. Now we have no hospital. Where will our people go for medical care?!" Zulfiquar cried. Ticonderoga's gaze was hard as she replied "You should've thought of that before your precious army fired on our forces, sparking a battle." "Objection!" FS Horizon began. "Withdrawn, no further questions." Ticonderoga said before returning to her place beside Enterprise.

Conqueror was next. The new witness, Almagir, had lost her sister in the attack. "I'm sorry for your loss PNS Almagir I'll try not to keep you too long." She said. "You have a soul sister?" She asked. "Yes, she is a training ship." Almagir replied. "When was the last time you saw her?" Conqueror asked. "6 years ago." Almagir replied. "What happened to her?" The sub asked. "Relevance?" Horizon questioned. "Goes to motivation your honor." Conqueror replied to Dauntless. "Freeing the Iraqi people from Saddam's tyranny is one of the reasons the coalition forces came to Iraq." "I'll allow it Conks." Dauntless replied. "But make it brief." "What happened to your soul sister, Almagir?" Conqueror asked again. "Saddam's men come, they arrest her and take her to a drydock." Almagir replied. "Was there a trial?" Conqueror asked. "No. Saddam gets one but my mate does not." "Was she released after Saddam's incarceration last year?" Conqueror asked. "No, she is disappeared." "What do you mean by disappeared?" "I am sure she is dead. But no proof so I also hope." Almagir replied. "Thank you, no further questions." Conqueror made to return to Enterprise but Almagir wasn't finished. "Saddam took my mate. Americans took my sister. What is difference?!" Conqueror made to reply but Ticonderoga shook her head. "Saddam killed to take away freedom." She said. "We Americans kill to return it. That's the difference." Horizon shot her a glare which Ticonderoga returned. "Objection, your honor." The French ship growled. "Withdrawn." Ticonderoga said, holding the other cruiser's gaze. It was clear these two would be in a constant battle.

The court was adjured until 10:00 the next morning. That night, there was trouble. Brandenburg's sister was babysitting one of their close friends, a harbor tug, and she'd gone missing. The German ship was in a panic. "She said she'd been missing for eight hours. I don't vant to desert you." "Just leave us your research and we'll manage." Los Angeles replied. "They'll find her before I get back, right? If not..." Brandenburg trailed off, clearly distressed. The submarine waited for her to calm down. Eventually, the German called on her military training and stood at attention. "Permission to return home ma'am?" She asked Los Angeles. "Permission granted. Call us when you get news." Los Angeles replied and the German left.

De Gaulle moved forward. "USS Mercy, in your speech did you state that the military charter allowed for the use of action in self defense?" She asked. Mercy was well versed in the rules of war as established by the United Nations. She had opposed the coalition in Iraq because she did not believe it legal. De Gaulle was about to turn that reasoning on its head. "Under certain circumstances. But the United States was not attacked by Iraq." She replied. "Ask the widows and orphans of 9/11 about that one." Ticonderoga muttered. As far as she was concerned, every Middle Eastern country was a threat and she would take them all out if she could. "Not yet." De Gaulle replied and up at the judges table FS Mistral chuckled. "But here's a man with a record of using weapons of mass destruction is it not reasonable to anticipate he would use them again." De Gaulle said. "No, WOMD were found." "Not yet." "Also, preventive war is not a legitimate reason for armed violence. When conflict arises, peace must be the ultimate goal." "That's your opinion." De Gaulle said sternly. "Well now do you really believe it will ever come?" "The Ancients say it will." Mercy replied. "The destroyer dell with the sub." De Gaulle's eyes briefly flickered skyward before she replied "Well before the destroyer rules against eating me, we better get the wolf to agree." "Your honor!" Horizon complained. "Shut it, ISIS butt kisser!" Ticonderoga snarled. "What'd you call me?!" Horizon rose to face the American cruiser and the two got in each other's faces. Conqueror and Enterprise had to work together to pull their friend back and reluctantly Horizon backed down. "That's enough out of both of you." Dauntless' gaze swept over the two hostiles who both obediently lowered their heads.

De Gaulle proceeded with her questioning. "Did you not suggest Mercy that the Security Council needed to rewrite the rule book on the use of force?" She asked. "For certain type of threats." Mercy replied. "Terrorist groups using weapons of mass destruction?" De Gaulle asked and Mercy sighed. "Yes." She agreed. "Thank you Mercy." De Gaulle returned to her berth, head held high.

Next on the stand was Cole. The little destroyer had agreed to testify before the court. It was a bold move on her part. If the defense lost, she could be charged with war crimes. "Cole, please explain to the court why you authorized the attack on the hospital?" Los Angeles asked. "The marines were taking fire ma'am. Being hit on two fronts. One of those was the hospital, ma'am." Cole replied. "So the hospital was a legitimate military target?" Los Angeles asked. "Affirmative ma'am. We wanted to avoid hospitals, mosques, historical sights. If the Iraqis hadn't used it as a base, it would still be standing today." Cole said. "Thank you."

Horizon came forward and Cole braced herself, shooting the Pakistani a harsh glare to show her distrust. "What gave you the right to be in Iraqi waters in the first place?" She asked. "I was a destroyer ma'am, following orders." Cole replied. "Of course." Horizon looked smug and that gave Cole the desire to wipe it off her face. "And then I saw the mass graves. There was a hospital ship who watched her sister's rudder get cut off. She bled to death after three days and no one bothered to help her. She just lay there in her berth, bleeding out. And there was a cruiser who wasn't given her ration of water just because she'd been seen caring for a wounded soldier left to die in the street." Cole's eyes were hard and her voice equally so as she hissed "I'm not going to say my being in Iraqi waters was a right. It was an obligation." Horizon quickly realized her question had backfired and she stepped down swiftly. "No further questions your honor." She stammered and returned to her anchorage.

"I must say Cole, the fleet would be proud of you." Enterprise smiled. "Thank you Enterprise." She replied. Enterprise didn't notice the cruiser sneaking up behind her, forward gun barrel raised to fire but Cole did. She pushed past Enterprise, taking the shot herself. It hit her on the side of her bridge, next to her left eye. The worst part was Cole didn't even scream as she rolled on her side, blood pouring from the wound and staining the water red. PNS Babir was restrained and taken under arrest while Horizon watched on, stunned at the act. Conqueror shoved her fairwater fins against the wound, trying to get the bleeding under control. Cole quivered beneath her. Ticonderoga looked down from above. "Hang in there kiddo." She murmured.

"Your witness and victims units are supposed to protect all witnesses, not just the prosecution!" Conqueror snarled to Horizon. Cole had been taken to the nearest hospital and was being treated for her wound while the Royal Navy submarine descended upon the Dutch embassy in force. She had an axe to grind. "My apologies, HMS Conqueror. It was a tragic incident." "Attempted murder is hardly an incident." Los Angeles growled. "If Cole dies, I want her killer to be extradited to the United States to face trial for murder!" Enterprise snarled. "Where justice is swift and fair." Horizon said mockingly. "That justice has no death penalty." Enterprise retorted. "Which the bitch certainly deserves." Los Angeles added. The phone rang and Horizon answered. After a few moments she hung up and said "Cole is out of surgery. She will be fine." "I still want that bitch interrogated by US investigators." Enterprise said. "I'm sure the Dutch authorities will be happy to pass along whatever information they find." "That's not acceptable." The carrier hissed and led the way out. Conqueror began to follow but paused. She turned back to Horizon and the hatches on her back raised. "I would just kill you now." She said. "But then I wouldn't be a proper British lady so I will give you a warning instead. I suggest you watch your back from now on because you never know when I'm gonna shove a missile up your ass!" With that the sub stalked off, hatches still raised and weapons bared.

Enterprise didn't get far as there was a guard outside the door. "You are still under the courts' jurisdiction Enterprise. However I am prepared to make you a deal." Horizon said. "I drop all charges in exchange for reparations from the US. You avoid jail time. Everyone wins." "Accept you win a little more." Los Angeles snorted. "Will that be so bad? Does the world see you as the arrogant bullies you seem to be." Horizon snapped back. "Arrogant." Enterprise whispered, moving forward so she was right in Horizon's face. The French cruiser actually shrunk back a bit and Enterprise felt pleasure at seeing the fear in her eyes. "I think originally that's a French word is it?" "The French have given you many words. Still we don't impose our culture on the world as you do." "You have an inferiority complex." Enterprise snorted. "After all these decades of being friends and allies you still don't have any idea of who we are." "Tell me then. Who are you?" Horizon challenged.

"Ever since our founding, America has been the symbol of hope for the world. And we remain so today. We accept our responsibility as all civilized nations should." Enterprise said. She stood in front of the panel of judges. The night before she'd had a discussion with Missouri. She could see the battleship now in the back of the courtroom. She gave the carrier an encouraging smile which spurred Enterprise on. "To fight against oppression and tyranny. But when we fight, we don't fight for land or oil or money or to impose our will. We take up arms against violent men who threaten our freedom and the freedom of others." "I commend your lofty goal of saving the world." Horizon said. "But some may say the hundreds of Iraqi civilians you have killed is nothing short of evil." "The unintentional deaths of civilians is a tragic consequence of war. The purposeful slaughter of American civilians followed in the Middle East by jubilant dancing in the street. That is evil!" "Did the world ask you to be its savior?" Horizon asked. Enterprise growled. "In 1917, in 1941 and throughout the 40 years of the Cold War. The world asked us for help! And we gave it! But now the war on terrorism has begun and we can't wait to be asked. We must do what has to be done." "So, you feel free to attack of which you disprove?" Horizon sneered. "If that nation poses an intimate threat we reserve the right to use military force to protect ourselves." Enterprise replied. Horizon was speechless. She'd run out of ideas. "Do you have any further questions, prosecutor?" Dauntless asked. "No." Horizon replied and returned to her place. "Council?" Dauntless turned to the defense team. Los Angeles stood. "The defense rests." She replied, unable to keep the smug tone out of her voice and she couldn't resist rubbing it in a little. Horizon winced and shrunk back. Ticonderoga smirked and raised one of her gunbarrels in a rude gesture at the French cruiser. _"Bitch deserves it."_ She thought as Horizon retreated.

"Just got word from Brandenburg, she found her tug. Turns out she was with some local hippies." Los Angeles said. "That's good to hear." Enterprise sighed. They had gathered outside the courtroom as the jury deliberated. Their chances were good. After all, Enterprise's team of lawyers had made a fine case, even with one of their own missing. Enterprise owed them. "Before we go in, I'd like to say something." Her team fell silent and they turned to her. "Go ahead Enterprise." Los Angeles said. "As I went into this, I'll admit I had my doubts. I made assumptions about all of you. De Gaulle, I don't think you want me to repeat what I thought." The French ship chuckled. "Eh have heard worse than fat and lazy, Enterprise." She replied. Enterprise briefly wondered how the carrier knew that before deciding she didn't want to know. "Conqueror, Los Angeles, well I'll admit my doubts about you two were the strongest. I didn't like submarines before now but getting to know you two, I know now I couldn't have asked for better in a surface ship! Thank you." "Our pleasure En." Los Angeles smiled. "Tico, I had confidence in you from the get go though I'll admit I got a little worried when you started your spats with Horizon." Enterprise said. "Little bitch needed to be taken down a peg." She replied. "Thank you, all of you." Enterprise wanted to say more but she couldn't. Swallowing hard the carrier looked down, ready to embrace the tears when she felt four hulls press against hers. Ticonderoga, Los Angeles, Conqueror, and De Gaulle all showed their appreciation for defending the deputy of the US fleet.

"The use of armed force without mandate from the security council is a breach of international law." Dauntless said. "But such a breach must be weighed against the circumstances of each particular case. Would more lives be lost if Saddam's regime continued into the indefinite future. Will the accused please rise?" Enterprise and her defense council did so. "On the charge of crimes against humanity, not guilty. On the charge of war crimes, not guilty. On the charge of intentionally attacking noncombatants, not guilty. On the charge of willful destruction of civilian property, guilty. This court orders that reparations be made to the town of Tisarg in the amount of $20 million. This court is adjourned." "Congratulations Enterprise." Conqueror said. "Not sure the taxpayers will agree but that's DoD's problem." Ticondoroga grinned. Horizon approached. "I cannot say I am pleased with the verdict but I am glad that you will not spend the rest of your life in jail." She said. Enterprise murmured something in French that made De Gaulle raise a brow. "Our countries have been friends for nearly 2 decades. Such a relationship shouldn't be discarded. Let's discuss it over a glass of Merdot." Enterprise said. "After you." Horizon smiled.


	52. American Bushido

PHILIPPINE SEA OCTOBER 25 1944

Pennsylvania carefully stifled her groan as she listened to Johnston's rambling. With Enterprise off to fight the Jap carriers along with all her major escorts, she'd hastily left the little destroyer in command of the San Bernandino Strait. As a Fletcher-class destroyer, Johnston had the fire of war in her blood. She would fight at just about anything but this was getting ridiculous. _"It's a trap, I'm telling you!"_ She was saying. She'd been saying it all day and while Pennsylvania had her own misgivings about the situation, she was beginning to lose patience. _"Johnston, just follow your orders. Guard the entrance to the Strait."_ She said. _"My task force won't be able to withstand a Jap assault. Should something nasty come through that waterway, we're all dead. Think about that."_ Pennsylvania gritted her teeth as she said _"Just follow your orders..."_ Johnston's reply came swiftly and from the tone of her voice it seemed like she'd forgotten the radio was on. _"What the hell..."_ She cut off abruptly but not before Pennsylvania heard a sound that made her blood freeze. The unmistakable sound of gunfire.

...

The first shot knocked over her radar mast and took the antenna with it. Johnston muttered a curse as her radio went dead. She had no way to contact Pennsylvania or her own ships now. Glancing to port she saw her sister Roberts steaming full ahead for the source of the shelling. "What are you doing?!" She cried. Those shells weren't destroyer shells, and if Johnston's suspicions were correct then Roberts stood no chance against what was out there. "If I'm going down, I'm going down fighting. We have our orders Johnston, protect Leyte and that's just what I'm going to do. But I could do a hell of a lot better job if I had some help. Now are you with me or not?" Roberts replied. Johnston looked behind her at her measly forces, a minimal number of destroyers and escort or jeep carriers. "If any ship wishes to retreat then that is their choice. I will not stop you." She said. No one moved back an inch. Instead they all came forward. Hoel dipped her said and said "Pardon me and my bluntness ma'am but we're not fucking going anywhere!" Johnston felt the sides of her face split into a grin and her lips curl up into a snarl. "Let's finish this." She growled. "You girls launch your place and get the hell out of here!" She told the escort carriers. "We'll cover your retreat." They nodded. "Good luck Johnston." "May the Ancients be with you." "May they be with us all." Johnston sighed, then turned her bow towards the emerging Japanese fleet.

At the head of the battle line was Yamato. Johnston was struck by how large the mega battleship really was. For the first time in her life she felt intimidated and she could see that her fellow destroyers were feeling as such too. Some were beginning to have second thoughts and back away. Johnston knew she'd have to act fast to get her little fleet together. With a yowl she charged. The act served as the much needed inspiration and the other destroyers joined her, launching their own separate attacks against the Japanese task force. Though armed with measly 5 inch guns in comparison to Yamato's 18.1 inch rifles, Johnston and her sisters also had torpedoes and they intended to use them. The torpedoes only had a 5 mile range while the Japanese could lob their ordinance over twice that distance. Johnston maneuvered in a tight zig zag pattern as she worked to avoid the worst barrage of fire. She was so small, her hull so thin, that most hits went straight through her without detonating. Soon her superstructure was riddled with holes but despite being bloodied she carried on. Her world had narrowed to a single target and it was the massive mega battleship directly in her crosshairs. Just as Yamato turned to engage her, she launched her torpedoes. She never knew if they made their mark for in that instant a pair of strong jaws clamped around her.

"JOHNSTON!" Robert's shriek was heard above the chaos of the battle as she witnessed Yamato sink her teeth into Johnston, shaking her like a rag doll before discarding her. Her sister fell into the sea in a motionless heap. "YOU MONSTER!" She roared, rounding on Yamato with a volley of five inch shells. Big mistake. Yamato's guns slowly moved around and with a jolt of fear Robert's realized that those guns were aimed at her. There was no running and Roberts just closed her eyes and braced herself to die. There was a bang from one of Yamato's guns before Heerman engaged the big battleship, knocking off her aim and causing the rest of the fired ordinance to miss. Roberts took three of the nine hits along her starboard side, opening her hull up to the sea.

With the late arrival of Pennsylvania and the other older battleships, Yamato was forced to withdrawl. Roberts was too weak to call for help, she knew it would be pointless anyways. She was flooded, bleeding and dying. She felt Pennsylvania lift her up and met the flagship's blue gaze. "Where's Johnston?" She asked. It took Robert's dying brain a minute to interpret the question. Her eyes flickered to where she last saw her sister's body but only sea foam remained. "Yamato," She gasped. "She fought like a battleship Penn." Pennsylvania's smile was soft though her eyes remained sad. "You all did." She murmured gently, rasping her tongue across Robert's cheek. Roberts grinned weakly but said nothing more. Pennsylvania set her body down. California came up alongside. "I ordered them to stay. Johnston didn't want them to, she knew..." Pennsylvania's voice broke. "You can't blame yourself." California murmured. "Johnston and her sisters may've been destroyers but they had the hearts of battleships. Let us remember them as such."

...

Yamato plodded along at the center of her task force, on her way home to Japan. Her heart was heavy and her decks weighed down by the mass of her cargo resting there. Said "cargo" was the body of USS Johnston. Some of the ships in the task force thought Yamato was crazy, taking a dead American home with her but Yamato had her reasons even if she couldn't entirely understand them. As the rest of the fleet dropped anchor in Yokosuka, Yamato continued on to the capital where a plot of the harbor had been set aside for Musashi after she met her fate. "I'm sorry my sister but I know this is what you'd want me to do." Yamato murmured, tears dripping off her nose and falling into the sea below. Plop. Plop. Plop. Gently, she set Johnston down, attaching weights to her hull and allowing her to sink. "You fought with honor, young samurai." She whispered. Watching Johnston's grey hull disappear into the blackness she began to pray.


	53. The Legend of Pitcairn

_She was like a ghost, her appearance so fleeing it was like she was never there. But the rumors persisted. Stories were told. That when you were in a hopeless situation and it seemed like there was no way out, three masts would appear on the horizon. Then a hull as golden as the harvest moon. Not the death bringing Long Shadow but the life giving warrior known only as Legend of Pitcairn._

FEBRUARY 1808

Topaz was not a naval ship, she wasn't commissioned, she hardly even carried any guns. But she had enough weaponry on her to take care of her business with the seals. Sealing was a profitable business. It wasn't a fortune maker like whaling was but it paid well enough. The pay couldn't beat the thrill of a good chase though, running down the swift flippered fiend as it tried valiantly to get away, only to fall to the power of her jaws. As a sealer she fell under the jurisdiction of the US Merchant Fleet. Unlike the navy, she answered to no one but her human masters. The sea was hers to roam at her discretion. A far cry from what it might have been 20 years prior when America was part of the British Empire. Topaz herself had never fought in the war now known as the American Revolution but she knew several ships who did, including American Supreme Flagship USS Black Pearl. She felt a pang of sorrow as she thought of the dark galleon. The former pirate had died in Tripoli Harbor after refusing to leave the stricken USS Philadelphia. She chose to burn with the frigate rather than allow them both to be captured. This occurred shortly before Topaz had left the states and the merchant had gotten word of it when she'd stopped in Taihti a few weeks ago. She was still coming to terms with the news.

The open sea suddenly felt a lot smaller as the shape of an island began to appear, altering the smooth horizon line. "Finally, a place to stalk up." She murmured. Her crew and she herself needed fresh supplies to keep going on their long journey before returning to America. She set a course for the island. Her charts had it unidentified, but she later learned it was Pitcairn Island, not the largest but the most accessible of the Pitcairn Island group. Rounding a corner she was a startled to find another ship already anchored in the bay, the only accessible means to island and its fresh water supplies. On long voyages, it was common ships of any nation to find refuge on an island of some sort before continuing on their way. But rarely did two such ships meet if not sailing in company previously. The other ship flew no colors of any kind which wasn't uncommon. Flags were expensive to fly and difficult to replace, especially on long trips where supplies to repair them were not easily on hand. She was tied to the end of a makeshift dock, the only one available. It was a tight squeeze but Topaz was small enough to fit in across from her, using her own lines to hold herself firm to the wood. The other ship Topaz could see now was asleep so she didn't bother to wake her. That would be rather rude. Feeling rather tired herself, the merchant settled in, trusting her crew to handle things ashore.

"YEOWW!" Topaz leaped back unceremoniously as a rigging line gripped freshly bitten nose. The merchant glared at the culprit. The other ship apparently wasn't pleased to find another anchored so close to her. "You know a simple "move please" would've sufficed. You didn't have to bite me!" She huffed. The other ship wasn't having it. She advanced swiftly on Topaz and the American found herself forced to look into those sky blue eyes, darkened by something she dare not name. "I know why you're here, lass." She growled. "You're here to take me back aren't you? Well let me tell ya something lassie. I ain't going back! No drydock, no prison cell! You'll have to sink me here and now! So go on! Sink me!" Topaz retreated under the force of the yelling before replying quietly "I-I'm not here to take you. I needed supplies and when I spotted this island I thought it would be a good place to stock up. Then I saw you and I assumed you were doing the same. Please, there's no need to be frightened. I'll just collect what I need and be on my way." "Oh," The other ship stood down, for her part looking a bit sheepish. "My apologies then."

Now that most of the fear had left her, Topaz had come to recognize the other ship's accent as British. Getting a good look at her she could see the paint beginning to wear off. The other ship kept a good frame on her, her flanks full. Though in good health, it was clear she'd been here a while. "You're forgiven. Can you be so kind as to tell me which island this is? It doesn't appear on any of my charts." Topaz asked. "Oh, I'm not surprised there dearie. The whole chain was misplaced when it was discovered by the British near 2 centuries ago. You're on Pitcairn, the capital island of the Pitcairn chain. Henderson Island is the largest and has the most food and fresh water and it's just to the northeast but good luck getting there. This bay is the only way in." "I see thank you." The other ship nodded and settled back in her berth. Topaz was uncertain but took her previous position across from her anyways. "I didn't know the Pitcairns were inhabited." She said. "That's because they weren't, not until 18 years ago." The other ship replied. "So specific. How is it no one else knew of this?" Topaz asked. "Because no one else is alive to know. Everyone who was involved in inhabiting these islands has stayed on these islands." She replied. "And does that include you?" Topaz guessed. She nodded. "Yes, including me." "What's your name?" "What's with all the questions?" She shot back with a slight roll of her eyes. Topaz took it as a sign of humor and pressed on. "I believe the key to building relationships is with questions. The more you ask, the more you know about someone." "Huh, there's actually a bit of wisdom in that. Very well. Call me Bethia. It's not the name I had last before I arrived here, mind you. But it is the one I prefer." Bethia said. "What was the name that you..." "That's classified." came the tight reply before Topaz had even finished her sentence. "Very well Bethia. My name is Topaz. I have no prefix as I'm not a commissioned vessel. I'm part of the US Merchant Marine." "To have a merchant marine this early on in her lifespan, America must truly be a strong nation. I'm impressed." Bethia said. "Oh, heh. Well thank you I guess. No hard feelings right. From the sound of your accent I'd guess you are Royal Navy." Topaz said. "I used to be, but that was a long time ago. As I said, I've lived here for the past 18 years. Haven't seen or heard anything from home since." "Oh, I'm sorry." Topaz looked down, knowing how hard it was to be away from home for extended periods but 18 years?! "Don't be. I chose this life. I don't regret it." Bethia said. Shaking herself off the former Royal Navy ship asked "You wanna see more of this place? If you're not too tired that is." "Oh sure, can you show me around? I'm not sure I can navigate these shoals without proper charts." Topaz asked. "Of course, come on. I'll have some of the locals help your crew get them updated as well. Pitcairn may be a secluded island, but its supplies are open to foreigners." Topaz nodded and let Bethia lead the way out.

Once at sea, Bethia was able to unfurl her white sails and set a brisk pace. Topaz, though small, had a good amount of canvas on her and it was likely in better condition than Bethia's was anyways so she was able to keep pace. As the pair navigated the various channels and inlits that surrounded the islands, more sails appeared on the horizon. Topaz could tell they were Royal Navy, she turned back to tell Bethia of this but saw that her companion had disappeared and was nowhere to be found. The Royal Navy ships turned out to be a small group of frigates lead by HMS Eurydice. "Ahoy there!" She greeted enthusiastically. "What news to you bring little one?" Topaz bristled slightly at being called little one but she shoved her anger aside for now, dipping her head respectfully to the larger warship. "There's very little traffic in these parts ma'am. But if you need supplies there's a large island just to the north of here, the largest of the bunch. It contains loads of fresh water and food in its interior. Its inaccessible by yourselves however so you'll have to send a rowboat in." "Any trouble we should be aware of?" Eurydice asked. "Up near Hong Kong there are some pirates running about. A small disorganized band who wouldn't dare take on a frigate such as yourself ma'am. But small merchants ships tend to be their chosen prey, regardless of origin." "We'll keep an eye out, thank you." She eyed Topaz' flag at her stern. "So that's the flag the Americans have now. The number of stars grows by the day. Tell your fleetmates to enjoy it while it lasts, the first years are always the most enjoyable." "I will, thank you." Eurydice nodded and set off, her little fleet following.

Once they had gone Bethia reappeared, she'd apparently been hiding behind some rocks nearby. "Why hide?" Topaz asked her. "Because I don't trust them." Bethia replied. "They discover me, they'll be sure to take me back to London and hang me!" Topaz wasn't sure what she was hearing. No she was pretty sure, she just wasn't sure if she could believe it. "You mean, you _betrayed_ the Royal Navy?!" She asked incredulously. The British were known for their devotion to the service. For any ship to leave for reasons other than capture left room for speculation. Bethia nodded. "Aye. I wasn't born a warship. Rather I was a merchant like you, pressed into the service when I was just 4 years old. I set sail on my first mission to Tahiti, meant to bring some exotic breadbasket plants from the locals there to the British holdouts in the region. While in Tahiti, I meet a ship. A small thing, about your size but that didn't deter me. Her name was Hǎi Huā, it meant Sea Flower and I fell in love with her immediately. When it was time to leave, the very thought made my heart cry with such sorrow that I knew I couldn't." "So you refused then. You refused to leave." Topaz was beginning to piece together what may've happened. "I did. And apparently I wasn't the only one." Bethia's eyes narrowed. "The night after we left Tahiti, there was a mutiny. The crew was split evenly between the captain and the first officer but the captain, wanting to avoid bloodshed, decided to stand down. He and his followers left in the longboat. I returned Hǎi huā and we set sail together. I was a fugitive by then, afraid of what might happen should I be caught. The Royal Navy knew by this point what had happened and dispatched HMS Pandora, the sister to the ship you were just talking to, to find me. She found the loyal crew and captured some of my mutineers before sinking on her return trip on the Great Barrier so I learned later." Bethia's voice quavered slightly, clearly pained by the loss of her former fleetmate. "And Hǎi huā?" Topaz's voice was no louder than a whisper. If possible, Bethia's eyes darkened even more and shimmered as tears filled them. "She died two years ago, having caught the same illness that brought down a majority of the men ashore." "Bethia, I'm so sorry." Topaz couldn't offer much more than a few comforting nuzzles as the larger ship began to cry, overcome by her memories. "The name you carried when you sailed here, the one you said was "classified" what was it?" Topaz asked, though she felt she already knew the answer. Bethia leaned into her with a sigh. "Bounty." She murmured. "My name was HMS Bounty."

Returning to Bounty Bay, Bethia and Topaz continued to bond over stories. The English ship taught Topaz some of the valuable healing skills she herself had learned since arriving on the island. Topaz likewise caught her up on world events. "She did what?" Bethia asked, working to stifle her laughter as Topaz told her of Constitution's first act as fleet deputy. Struggling to hold in her laughter herself, Topaz replied "She-she declared that Pearl was being too stiff in her rules and had the fleet play pin the sail on the ship with her as the ship." Bethia couldn't hold back and both ships were roaring with laughter. "Leave it to the Americans!" She chortled and Topaz wholeheartedly agreed. "Only in America." She said and Bethia nodded. The two quickly became good friends and by the time Topaz was ready to leave, she felt there was one last thing to do. Eurydice was still in the area, collecting supplies on nearby Henderson Island. She, like the rest of the Royal Navy, had a right to know that one of their own was still alive. And Bethia had a right to tell them. "Absolutely not!" Bethia growled when the American brought up the idea. "Bethia, what are you so afraid of? The worst they can do is haul you off to London and hang you there. Your mate is already dead and the people here can fair just fine without you. What really is tying you here?" "I belong here." Bethia whimpered and Topaz' anger vanished. "I know." She nuzzled her. "But you can't remain here forever. Times are changing and sooner or later you will be found." "I hope I'll be dead by then." She growled. "I wouldn't count on it." Topaz shot back, then nuzzled her. "In case I don't see you again." She murmured. "Maybe one day you will." Bethia tried to sound hopeful. "Don't do anything stupid." Topaz said. "I should be telling you that. You're American." Topaz laughed, a delightful sound to one so lonely before. Bethia hadn't realized how much she'd missed a ships company until Topaz came along. The former British merchant suddenly felt the strong desire to keep Topaz here. "Don't go." She begged. "Please..." Topaz frowned at the somber note in her friend's voice, seeing the tears beginning to come down from her eyes. She came forward, holding her to her side in a gentle embrace. "You deserve more than me." She murmured. "Let other ships know and they will come to you. Don't be afraid." Bethia's breath hitched slightly but she put on a brave face. "I will, try." She said. Topaz nodded. She kissed the top of Bethia's head before backing away. But Bethia wasn't content with that. She lunged, catching the surprised American off guard in a passionate kiss. Topaz' hesitation lasted only a second before she was giving as good as she got back to Bethia. "Thank you Topaz." Bethia's voice was soft, her eyes gentle. "For everything." Topaz offered her one last lingering nuzzle in reply before turning her bow for the open sea. Bethia watched her go, remaining at the harbor entrance until long after her friends' sails had disappeared past the horizon, heading for home.

It'd been a few days since Topaz had left for America and Eurydice's fleet was almost ready to leave. Just a few more supplies and they'd be ready to go. These islands weren't rich in resources but they weren't devoid of them either. For a small force like hers they were a perfect resting place. Why hadn't they discovered them before... Her thoughts were interrupted by the shout of "There's a ship approaching us, no colors." Eurydice's first thought was pirates but something in her gut told her this wasn't the case. As the ship drew closer Eurydice could make out the details on her. Three masts, a golden hull with white stripes, Royal Navy colors. And those eyes. Those sky blue eyes, as rich as Eurydice remembered. "It cannot be." whispered HMS Lively. She halted in front of Eurydice at a respectful distance, saluting. "As you were, Bounty." Eurydice ordered and she heard more than a few whispers of surprise amongst her fleet. "Ma'am, your wish is my command. If you want to haul me off to London to stand trial for my misdoings so be it. Topaz was right, with my mate and most of my men dead as is, I have no ties to these islands. My fate is in your hands." Bounty kept her voice level as best she could though it did waver slightly. "The loss of Hǎi huā is punishment enough." Eurydice replied. "Though you can do me one favor." "Yes HMS Eurydice?" "Tell me the fate of my sister, Pandora." "Oh," Bounty's face fell. "On that I can offer you some sense of closure. She did find me and had promised to keep my whereabouts a secret. But her crew wasn't in on it. The conflict forced her to run aground on the Great Barrier Reef where no news of me would ever reach England." "Loyal to the end." Eurydice murmured. "Thank you Bounty." The merchant nodded. "My offer still stands you know, you may return to England if you wish." Eurydice said. Bounty shook her head. "I belong here." She replied. Eurydice dipped her head. "If that is your wish, then so it may be." The pair touched noses. "If ever you or any Royal Navy ship are this way again, know you are welcome." Bounty said. "I will keep that in mind." Eurydice replied with a small smile. She broke the contact, gathering her ships with a sweep of her sails, their bows turned for England. Bounty stood at attention, saluting them as they went past. Then, once they were gone, she turned her own bow for home.

 _Years after rumors persisted of a Royal Navy ship that would appear and then disappear in your hour of need. And whenever Royal Navy ships stopped in Pitcairn's harbor, some would report seeing a guard already at the entrance, watching over them in the night. And when they woke, the strange ship had disappeared. Only a select few knew who she was. And even fewer still told the true story. Bethia, HMS Bounty, the Legend of Pitcairn Island._


	54. Frenimies

Guilt. That's what the tight feeling in her gut was. Guilt was presently shouting at her from the dock. Guilt was the thick chains wrapped around her rudder and the bag around her muzzle. Arctic Sunrise knew she should be feeling guilty. She did just storm an oil rig after all. But oddly, strangely, she felt anything but guilt. She felt glee. Glee huh? She wasn't sure she should label it that far so instead she settled for satisfaction. She breathed a sigh through her nose, working to tune out the scolding from the dock. Honestly, Moore could be such a ass sometimes. But the shouting had stopped. A glance at the dock told her that Moore had left. Odd. He never left in the middle of giving his lectures. There was movement off to her left and Arctic stretched her chains to dare a peak. Another ship was entering the harbor, being escorted by a cruiser. She too was muzzled, but she held her head high, amber eyes flashing in defiance. Arctic stifled a hiss. She knew that black hull anywhere.

The cruiser set Westra down in the berth opposite of Arctic, being more than a little rough. Westra glared once at her before settling in. She met the green ship's gaze and even through her muzzle, Arctic could hear her laughter and she glared which only made the black ship laugh harder. Sighing, Arctic settled in for what she knew would be a long jail sentence.

Night fell and both ships just sat there glaring at each other. Neither got much sleep that night. In the morning, breakfast was brought out and their muzzles were removed. Neither ate in silence for long. Arctic glared at her rival and said "Nice of you to laugh at me last night." "What can I say? A peace loving hippie tied up? Couldn't resist mate." Westra replied. Arctic huffed. "So what'd they get you for?" Westra asked. "You're not supposed to ask that." Arctic frowned. "So you studied for drydock time?" Westra asked. Arctic scowled. "I uh, I may've uh, accidentally..." Westra nodded encouragingly. "Ugh, I stormed an oil rig okay!" Arctic cried and for one the black ship was caught off guard. "An oil rig. Considering how important those are to governments, you must've had some real guts to go in there like that. I'm impressed." Westra said. "I myself just came here from Scotland. Damn bastards were angry I disrupted their Bluefin hunting last year." "Kudos to you on that by the way." Arctic said before she could stop herself. Westra raised a brow and Arctic slithered a bit. "I should be insulting you. You're the enemy. I should be insulting you! Why am I not insulting you!" Arctic grumbled. "Because I'm not the enemy like Moore and Rainbow make me out to be." "Rainbow doesn't think you're the enemy." Arctic sighed. "She's gotten in a lot of trouble because that view." A snort. "I imagine." "Shut up!" Arctic snarled and infuriatingly, Westra just snickered.

The pair were muzzled again until dinner time but unlike before, they didn't glare at one another, just stared. Westra eyed the fresh marks on Arctic's hull from her confrontation at the oil rig. And Arctic likewise could see all the battlewounds calloused over from years of hard use. Westra may've been many things but she most certainly was not a slacker when it came to environmental bad guys. A new feeling welled up, something that felt oddly like pride. But Arctic couldn't be proud of Westra. She hardly knew the black ship other than as a rival and an enemy. It was something else and Arctic, try as she might, couldn't put a name to it.

Morning came again and this time breakfast was more civil in its conversation as the two talked. The pair exchanged stories with Westra telling Arctic of her adventures as Sea Shepherd's flagship and Arctic telling Westra of all the antics of Esperanza. The former Soviet had a pranking streak a mile wide and both ships were left breathless with laughter after Arctic told her of the unfortunate Christmas Eve mishap. As always, the pair were muzzled again after breakfast. Neither had gotten any sleep since they arrived here and while Arctic couldn't speak for Westra she herself was exhausted. Westra didn't say anything but her amber eyes seemed to be duller than they were. The chains across their hulls prevented them from taking any position that would allow them to rest. Neither could last much longer. One night, Arctic met her gaze. She couldn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her eyes sent her message across quite clearly. _"I want out of here."_ Westra nodded and the pair set to work engineering their escape.

It took them another several days but when night fell, the two slipped their chains, allowing them to slither off their decks and into the water with hardly a sound. The pair sailed as far as the harbor entrance before the guard, the same cruiser that escorted Westra in, spotted them. Arctic was sure they were going to be sent back to their berths and punished but instead the guard just smiled. "Well it took you two long enough. But I guessed as much. Pol owes me 10 pounds!" "It took some work on both our parts Andennes but we learned our lesson in the end." Westra replied with a smile. "I don't understand, what lesson?" Arctic asked. "I wasn't really impounded by the Russians." Westra replied. "But I knew you were and while I admit I was tempted to just let you rot." "Thanks." Arctic interrupted. Her sarcasm was met with a slight glare. "I also knew this might be one of my only chances to have Sea Shepherd and Greenpeace work together. Of course Andennes helped. She can be very persuasive when she wants to be." Westra gave the cruiser next to her a fond glare. "Aren't you like sworn enemies with Sea Shepherd though?" Arctic asked. "That's just a guise I put up to keep my true loyalties a secret." Andennes replied. "Now are we going to keep standing around here talking or are we going to run because I'd hate to see all our hard work come undone." "Agreed, let's go." Westra started to race off but paused with Arctic just off her flank. "What's your cover for this?" She asked. Andennes couldn't completely hide her grim face as she replied "You let me worry about that. You'll both be safe and that's what matters. The worst they can do to me is a negligence charge. They'd never suspect I'd help you. My guise is too good for that." Westra dipped her head to her. "Until next time Andennes." Arctic too dipped her head before following her companion into the night.

As the pair raced away, Arctic felt the feeling well up in her again only this time, she had a name for it. Not pride, kinship. Despite their differences in tactics, both shared the same goal. Both fought for the same cause. Arctic gave a small laugh, happy she'd realized this. "Something you find amusing?" Westra asked beside her. "Oh just, I realized something." Arctic said. "Oh?" "When I stormed that rig, I enjoyed it. I liked it! And I don't regret it." She said. "Uh oh." Westra teased. "Shut up!" Arctic shoved her good naturedly. "You're no enemy Westra. I'm not sure I can call you a friend but..." "Frienemy." Westra interrupted. "What?" "Well you said I'm not an enemy but I'm not a friend either so frienemy." Arctic sighed. Sometimes she couldn't decide if the black ship was just being an ass or just being immature to be an ass. But she found the attitude refreshing.

Westra escorted her back to Auckland. "This is where I leave you." She said, halting outside the harbor. "I doubt I'm welcome." "I wish that weren't so." Arctic said. Westra smiled. "I know but I'll see you again. It may be a big ocean but we share the same targets." "Aye, that we do." Arctic turned towards the harbor, seeing her flagship being entertained by Esprenza's antics. Westra chuckled, the activities reminded her of the silly things Ady would get up to. Bridgett did some too but not nearly on the same scale. She supposed it was for the best that the two never met. The things they would get up to sent shudders down Westra's hull at the mere thought. A loud horn brought Westra back to her senses and she looked in time to see Arctic sailing towards her fleetmates who responded in kind but Westra knew who the horn was really meant for. She gave a blast of her own before turning her bow south. It was time to gear up for another Antarctic campaign, with or without Greenpeace. _"Frienemies huh?"_ Westra thought to herself. _"Yeah, I could live with that. Until next time Arctic."_


	55. Love and Loss: Ouvea and Rainbow Warrior

JULY 10, 1985

"I'm getting too old for this." Rainbow sighed as she took a dock in Auckland, her last stop before Moruroa. Her muscles ached from the long journey. She wasn't used to sail. Beside her, Ouvea chuckled. "Still look the same to me on the outside mon cheri." She purred. "Oh hush!" "I wonder if you're still the same in the inside." "Shush!" Rainbow's cheeks turned more red than green. Leave it to the French to speak uncensored.

Ouvea settled beside her as she always did. The two had known each other since 1979. Ouvea had been a simple pleasure yacht then operating out of Paris. Rainbow Warrior had passed by there briefly on her way to the Med. Ouvea had liked what she'd seen and joined up and the rest is history. The two had been a mated pair for little more than a year now and after 6 months in drydock being refitted for this assignment, Rainbow was just as eager to test out this new body as the yacht was. But they had to wait until nightfall. Even though their species was entirely female, Rainbow did not want to push her luck by appearing as a lesbian. She was gentle as she pressed her mouth against Ouvea's. She was heavier and could easily overwhelm the yacht which is why she always took bottom.

The passions lasted over an hour and at the end of it, Ouvea lay comfortably on Rainbow's belly, lazily drawing circles on the bigger ship's hull. "We'll both sleep good tonight." She said and Rainbow gave a grunt in affirmation. Ouvea gazed down at her mate, eyes half closed and completely content with the world. It was a position meant to bring about satisfaction and comfort to the yacht but it only brought disgust and loathing. Ouvea felt sick with what she was about to do. Her whole life had been dedicated to just one cause. Serving the interests of France by collecting, analyzing, and acting on intelligence gathered in the field. And all that was in danger of being ruined because of one green hippie! Falling in love was a dangerous thing to do in her occupation but that's exactly what Ouvea had done. A part of her hated Rainbow. Hated that she stood against France, hated that she had exploited a weakness in the yacht even if she didn't know it! But another part of her admired the Greenpeace flagship's stance against nuclear testing. Against any environmental bad guy. She'd met other ships of course who shared her views but while they shared them, Rainbow lived them. And her passion was infectious. Ouvea had put it off for as long as she could. She had hoped she could escape the French radar somehow. That maybe 6 years undercover was enough time to change their minds. She was wrong and with an ultimatum from her government she knew it had to be tonight. It didn't matter if she did or didn't do it. The government would find a way to kill Rainbow anyways. It was better this way, easier. At least, that's what she tried to convince herself.

Gazing down into the eyes of her mate, Ouvea swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. "Rainbow..." She tried but her throat constricted, preventing further speech. "Yes, Ouvea?" She had to know. She deserved to know. To have at least some warning but Ouvea's words failed her. Her tongue felt like it was 3 times its size and her eyes burred as her vision blurred. She blinked to clear it. The tear droplets fell with a soft plink on Rainbow's keel. "Ouvea?" Concerned now, Rainbow raised her head to look at her mate. "I-I'm sorry, mi amour. I'm so. so sorry." "For what?" Rainbow asked, holding her. "I-I want to tell you. Give you some warning at least." Ouvea sobbed. "Ouvea, you're scaring me. Warning for what? What are you going to do?" "Something terrible and I can't do it! Even though I've been ordered to I can't! I just can't!" She cried, clinging to her. Rainbow rolled upright, leaning against the dock. "Whatever it is Ouvea, we'll work through it. I promise we'll work through it." She whispered and that's when it happened.

A terrible bang threw Rainbow's bow skyward. Ouvea was knocked clear. Adrenaline kicked in, overwhelming any injuries the yacht may've felt. She rushed back to her mate, finding her lying on her side. Blood burbled from her nose with every strained breath and more coated her side. The sea was an ugly red froth. "You, sabotaged me." She rasped. "No!" Ouvea gasped. "My job was to kill you Rainbow but in case I failed for some reason, my government had a failsafe installed. That was it. Either way..." "I was screwed, is that it?" Rainbow asked. "Either way, I was a dead case." "I'm sorry." Ouvea pressed her nose to her shoulder. Rainbow started to flinch away but she caught the look in her mate's eyes. Ouvea may've lied about many things but the eyes always held the truth and she could see it there. Rainbow didn't have it in her to hate. She sighed and allowed her mate close, lacking the strength to nuzzle her back. "You will survive this." Ouvea's voice was determined. The little yacht was a force of nature in her own right. When she got something in her head she was damned near impossible to stop but for all her courage, Ouvea could not fight the death encircling her mate. She was helpless as Rainbow slipped away before her eyes. "Stay awake Rainbow." She begged as the green ship began to close her eyes. "Ouvea, I can't-I don't hate you." Rainbow rasped. Ouvea's eyes filled with tears. "You did everything you could. I doubt even if you did give me a warning it would've helped. I was a dead ship a long time ago. We were just living on borrowed time." A weak chuckle. "And what a time it was." "Rainbow," Ouvea wasn't sure what she should say. Scold her, spill everything then and there despite the uselessness it had now. But all that came out was "Please..." At this, Rainbow did open her eyes and Ouvea was shocked at the glassiness they already possessed. Despite the agony she was already in, Rainbow looked up at her mate. "Your friends did a poor job. The damage isn't enough to kill me outright and I prefer a quick death. I know you still have your own means to kill me." "Rainbow, no." "Do it. Fulfill your mission. You can tell your government you killed me, that their actions were unnecessary and jeopardized the operation." "But I'll never be fine again. I had no plans on coming out of this mission alive." "Ouvea." "As long as we both shall live." Ouvea whispered. Rainbow sighed, saying nothing more.

Calmly, Ouvea took out the bottle of poison she was keeping. "It tastes better with drink." She said. "Matters not. I'll be dead too soon to know the difference anyways." Rainbow replied. She practically had to pry the bottle out of her mate's grip. Ouvea helped her swallow enough. "It'll take just a minute." She said and the green ship nodded. Ouvea had a cyanide capsule on her in case she was ever caught but now it was to be used for an entirely different purpose. She put it between her teeth and gave it a crunch, the saliva mixing with the fine powder. The result was instantaneous and Ouvea convulsed hard against her mate, coughing and choking, foam collecting around her mouth. She knew that the cyanide would have a very distinct reaction on her system. One that would take a lot longer for it to kill her. But that was okay. She wanted to suffer. She had killed her mate, it was the least she deserved. Rainbow held her throughout, even as the poison began to affect her. Her vision grew dark and with the last of her strength, she drew herself up enough to meet Ouvea in one last kiss. The yacht responded, if only for a moment before she went limp against her. Her weight forced Rainbow back against the dock but the poison had done its job. The Greenpeace flagship was dead before her hull struck the hard would, her lips still locked against her mate's, each ship holding the other in the last frame of their lives.


	56. Justice

Dorsetshire stared at the hated battleship in front of her. For 6 days she'd chased this murderer across the Atlantic and now she had her cornered, right where she wanted her. Right where the fleet wanted her. Behind her she could hear the cautious cheers of encouragement from her comrades. They'd all expended their ammunition, only Dorsetshire had enough left to put a dent in Bismarck's thick hull. Despite the heavy damage, the German battleship was still going strong. Her main armament had been put out of commission and scarcely a gun on her worked anymore but she had teeth and knew how to use them. Her blue eyes, the only visible trait of her hybrid heritage, were fixed on the cruiser. Darkened by hatred and crazed with a thirst for blood, she looked reminiscent of her father. Her snarl was met with a grin from Dorsetshire.

The two circled one another, looking for some weakness. Bismarck moved first, lunging straight at her opponent. Dorsetshire, with all the swiftness of a cruiser, dodged nimbly to the side, ramming her bow into Bismarck as she sailed past. Hissing, Bismarck whirled on her, teeth bared for another round. Dorsetshire lunged this time, getting her teeth around one of the battleship's massive gun turrets. Dorsetshire was a cruiser with a bite force capable of puncturing thick metal but she was still just a cruiser and had no hope of biting through the thick armor of Bismarck's deck. The 50,000 ton battleship reared and Dorsetshire's grip failed. She rolled off Bismarck unbalanced and landed hard on her side. Bismarck was in a perfect position and the battleship whirled around so her bow was facing Dorsetshire. The cruiser tried frantically to right herself but 50,000 tons of German steel held her down. The British warship closed her eyes and awaited the inevitable.

There was a squeal and daring a look, Dorsetshire was stunned to see a little converted merchant ship the size of an American PT boat, a fraction of her size, with a number 20 on her bow, darting in and out of her vision, taking swipes at Bismarck. The German battleship batted her away easily and the little thing went flying through the air, landing hard near Prince of Wales. The young battleship that was now the Royal Navy's flagship, moved to help, picking her up by her deck. "Easy there, tiger. This is not a fight for a civilian." She purred as the merchant struggled. Growls escaped her little form constantly. "Wales..." She seemed to be gearing up for something and then in the most commanding voice, she roared "LET ME GO WALES!" Shocked, her eyes widening with something that Dorsetshire dare not name, the battleship did and the merchant threw herself back into the fray.

Just as Bismarck was about to clamp her jaws around Dorsetshire's neck, the merchant got her jaws around the battleship's nose. Yowling, Bismarck reared back, giving Dorsetshire the time she needed to squirm her way free and race back to the British lines. She found herself beside Wales, shocked to see the battleship trembling with fresh tears flowing from both eyes. "She told me, I had to obey." For a minute no British ship moved, perhaps too stunned by the battle going on in front of them. Then Dorsetshire remembered why she'd attacked a ship 2 times her size in the first place. The cruiser raced back into the fray.

The little merchant still had her jaws firmly clamped around Bismarck's nose. No matter how much the German ship tried to shake her off she still held fast. She must've had a phenomenal bite force. Growls still escaped her as her little form was shook back and forth. Hearing Dorsetshire approach, she let go of Bismarck's nose, using the battleship's shaking motion to swing herself around to the heavily armored back of Bismarck's neck. The wooden deck allowed for good traction against her keel as she began to steadily chip away with her fangs and what fangs they were. Dorsetshire were stunned at their design. They were small, proportional to the merchants size but those type of teeth did not belong on a merchant. Each tooth was curved inwards with a serrated inward edge, but the fangs at the front were the most impressive. An impressive 4 feet long, each of the four teeth had some series serrations and on the bottom pair had a V-shaped point, allowing for the top teeth to pass through. It was the type of design seen on battlecruisers as battleships had a triple V to their teeth. The merchant fixed Dorsetshire with a hard intense stare. "Well my dear Corset, are you going to make this kraut eat those fish of yours or not?" She asked and Dorsetshire couldn't have stifled her gasp even if she tried. More than the distinctive fangs, marking a military heritage. More than those ice blue eyes that had haunted her for nearly a week as she raced across the Atlantic to avenge their owner. Dorsetshire had many nicknames over her lifetime but only one ship ever called her "Corset". Only one ever _dared._ "Aye ma'am." Dorsetshire replied and quickly moved to get into a good position, lest she incur the wrath of Hood.

Hood for her part was doing a good job forcing Bismarck into a favorable position for her British comrade. Her teeth could puncture all the way through Bismarck's hard armor but why bother when Dorsetshire could lighten her workload. Her position made it great for steering the battleship though. The position of Bismarck's rudder meant that the battleship could only do left hand turns but Hood, with all the skill of a seasoned navigator, was able to guide her opponent right into Dorsetshire's line of fire. The cruiser launched her last torpedoes. Bismarck couldn't hope to turn away, even if her rudder was working properly. At this distance, Dorsetshire simply couldn't miss. Grinning, Hood leaped clear just in time for Bismarck's whole port side to go up in a massive explosion as the fish made their mark. The sudden influx of water was too much for Bismarck to bear and the battleship rolled on her side, beginning to capsize. Dorsetshire moved in to finish her but something grabbed her stern. Turning she saw Wales who shook her head. "Let justice be served." She said gently. Dorsetshire nodded and moved back beside her in the line. Every British ship understood. This was Hood's battle.

Hood had come too far to turn back. This little merchant ship was nothing like her battlecruiser counterpart but she shared the name and she would honor it. She'd heard of HMS Hood's sinking while in Spain and convinced Victorious to take her along when H-Force set out for Briscay. When the carrier was forced to turn back, Hood went on, racing through the night to reach the battlezone. It might not have been the fight she once had envisioned but she was determined to carry out justice. Bismarck had sunk her. Time to return the favor. She advanced.

Bismarck's eyes were wide with terror and her sides heaved as the onslaught of water in her lungs forced her to take shallower breaths. She was dead anyways, regardless of what Hood did now. At one time, Hood might've felt sorry for her. The British Navy had done its duty, they'd shot Bismarck to pieces in their quest for vengeance. Ran her until she could run no more. But now the converted merchant, with a single deck gun that would do nothing more than scratch Bismarck's paint, felt nothing but satisfaction. Bismarck's menace was gone, she was just sealing the deal. She pressed her snout up against the battleship's cheek, and for a moment neither ship said a word as their harsh pants became in sic. For a moment, both ships simply looked at one another. Bismarck's blue-green eyes held a hypnotizing quality to them, something she shared with her father. Hood's ice blue eyes, no longer narrowed like chips now radiated the power and authority she held as a battlecruiser. A silent understanding passed between them, the kind only a soldier could understand. Then, Bismarck calmly rolled slightly, exposing her unprotected juggler. Hood took a deep breath, eyes closing briefly as she steadied herself. Bismarck too closed her eyes, awaiting her end. And then Hood opened her eyes and lunged. Her fangs sank deep and blood gurgled out between them. Bismarck never made a sound and perhaps that was the most frightening thing of all. Hood could feel the pulses of the vein growing weaker against her jaws. Bismarck shifted beneath her, the German's head falling forward until her snout gently touched Hood's decks, the warmth of her last breath being spread upon the merchant.

Hood calmly let go, teeth and bow stained with the blood of her enemy. Her blue eyes, hard moments ago, were unusually soft now. She moved back, allowing Bismarck to sink beneath the waves and turned to the fleet that once was hers. Each ship met her gaze, guns lowered out of respect in a manner that only a British ship could display. Hood's eyes traveled over each and every one of them until they came to rest on Wales. She moved forward. Wales wanted to cry. She wanted to roll over and beg for forgiveness for her failure. She'd failed to keep Hood safe. But something in that icy blue gaze stopped her. She halted less than a foot from Wales and allowed the current to do the rest. Their hulls brushed together and Hood reached up so her bow was next to Wales' ear.

What Hood whispered to Wales is still not known and has been the subject of speculation within the Royal Navy for decades. But whatever it was caused Wales to stand tall, despite the tears that flowed so freely from her eyes. Within them held a look that Dorsetshire had never seen before, certainly not in a battleship this young but it was a look that the veteran cruiser knew well. She had seen it in Hood after all. Hood and Olympic before her. The mark of a leader. Hood stepped back and gave her a nod, one that was returned, then the merchant calmly left the battle area, likely to catch up with Victorious on her way back to the British mainland. Justice had been served.

That was the last time any ship in the Royal Navy ever saw her.


	57. Turbinia

"Will you quit that?!"

Britannia closed her eyes, trying to get a lid on her temper as the current bane of her existence aptly named Turbina, zipped past her for the 4th time causing her to call her out for the 4th time. She felt the headache that had been growing since that morning was beginning to make its presence known despite her attempts to ignore it. The old ship, formally known as HMS Prince of Wales before her name change, was known for her mellow attitude and calm disposition but the activities of a certain turbine powered screw civilian ship were proving to be too much even for her peaceful nature. At the end of the day, she was a warship first and foremost after all.

If the Admiralty had told her a year ago that she'd be leading a line of battleships of various designs, some wooden, some iron hulled, some with broadside guns, some with turrets, and sit there for the review while a civilian who carried not the king, but some backwoods engineer and showed off to the most powerful fleet on the planet, she would've laughed and exclaimed "popycock!" But here she was, sitting at the head of a battle line while said civilian showed off her skills. Britannia would be the first to admit, the new innovation that powered the little steamer was impressive. Equally as impressive were the results, case and point being said steamer racing back down the line in front of her with a group of hot headed destroyers, all of whom had more breakable tempers than her and decided enough was enough and gave chase. They weren't making any progress. In fact Turbinia, a cheeky grin on her face, _winked_ at Britannia as she paced not even working up a sweat as she put distance between herself and her pursuers.

But despite Turbinia's impressive display of raw power, the little steamer seemed intent on making the man o'war's life miserable for the next few hours! Another pass, another cheeky grin and a wink and Britannia could feel her headache beginning to turn into a migraine. It wasn't even noon yet! Why had she agreed to forgo her rum ration for the day? A drink would be heavenly right about now. Sighing, Britannia shook her head, attempting to practice the technique for calming herself that had worked so well for Long Shadow and herself too in the past. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing, evening it out before slowing its rapid rate. It was working, she was starting to relax. Her guns no longer quivered against their hatches as her tense rigging began to sag.

Then her concentration was broken. A splash, a wave, and the now soaking wet man o'war was snapped out of her peaceful trance. The cold ocean that had so cruelly soaked her bow brought all her senses on alert and she reflexively went to general quarters. Her guns ran out, her rigging snapped taught as the wind filled her sails. Behind her, she could hear murmurings but whether they were of amazement or of alarm Britannia didn't know or care. She was seeing red as her gaze found the source of her rude awakening. Turbinia, having made the close pass on the man o'war now came up behind her, soaking her entire side as she did so. Britannia's migraine returned with a vengeance and her anger flared full force.

 **"WILL YOU FUCKING QUIT THAT!"**


	58. Blockade: Part 1

Bonhome Richard shifted at her moorings, shooting a hated glare towards the mouth of Newport harbor. Just months earlier there had been massive celebrations at the news of Gates' victory at Saratoga and the announcement of the French to join the conflict against the British. But her former masters were not amused, thus resulting in her current attitude towards object of her ire, the blockading ships. She witnessed the watch change, as it had been every 6 hours for the past 6 weeks. A larger man o'war took the position of the smaller sloop. A third ship, a large barque was seen beside her. Quick words were exchanged, words outside of Richard's hearing range. The man o'war dismissed the other two who came sailing down the channel towards her. Richard quickly averted her attention, pretending she had noticed nothing. The sloop went by her without so much as a glance although Richard was still feeling defiant enough to shoot her a nasty fish eye as she went past. The barque on the other hand...

"May I dock here? All other berths are taken?"

Richard was prepared to offer some scathing Yankee retort but when she turned to face the newcomer any reprimand died on her lips. She was old, her muzzle pure white the lines around her eyes sagging down. Her hull bore no resemblance to a Royal Navy warship, being more caked with dirt and grime than the standard chestnut-yellow livery. And dear god she was thin. She listed slightly to port and there was a slight wheeze in her breath. She looked like everything a Royal Navy vessel shouldn't. She was neglected and abused. All Richard could do was nod. "Sure, sure." She managed.

"Much obliged." The old ship took the offered spot next to Richard and the converted merchant had to stifle her wince of disgust as she felt that grimy hull rub against hers.

The limey had keen eyes though and immediately shifted away. Richard said nothing and the two sat in silence. The quiet unnerved Richard a bit. She was a big socialite, loved conversation and wasn't used to such awkward silence. She tried to think of something to say but by the time she had a vague assemblence of an idea she looked to see the other ship fast asleep. She was curled up, leaning against the pier on her port side. Her starboard was facing Richard and the list meant the Yank could see part of her keel. But it wasn't her underside that Richard found interest in, rather a nasty series of scars running outwards for several feet in either direction from a point on her starboard side. Her false keel looked like it'd had a chunk taken out of it, the wood that filled that hole was different than the rest. The keel itself was marked with scars across the same area. Richard didn't know that such wounds were even survivable and they'd clearly been there for a while. At least 5 years judging by their stale scent. The Yank knew only a grounding could cause that serious of damage and briefly she wondered the circumstances surrounding that. There was more to her companion that met the eye it seemed. Richard was not above making friends even if they were British. She had a sense that Newport would be blockaded for some time and the prospect of having someone friendly to talk to beat sitting at her dock bored all day. Richard resolved to strike up conversation when her friend woke.

She did around dinner time when food was brought out. The rations were small but high in calories. As Richard dug into hers she noticed her companion just staring at her food. With a frame as thin as hers, Richard would've thought she'd be devouring her plate by now. "What's the matter?" She asked. "Can't eat." She replied softly. "You allergic to something?" It wouldn't be the first time Richard had heard of such a thing as a ship being allergic to rationed biscuits. She knew Black Shadow couldn't eat them without her cheeks puffing up. Richard had made her eat one as a prank. The results were hilarious, Black Shadow's reaction, not so much. Richard still got phantom waves of pain on her stern. "No, it's something in my mouth. Hurts." The barque replied. "Hmm, I've trained a bit as a healer. Mind if I take a look? I won't touch anything that hurts." Richard promised and she conceded.

The fangs in the front were massive even if one of the tips was broken, its jagged edge warn down by time and use. Dental hygiene wasn't something that was very high on any ships list and the Brits were known for their fondness of sugar... The merchant still got shudders at seeing portraits of Queen Elizabeth's mouth. The barque's teeth weren't as bad as they were surprisingly clean in comparison. Most likely due to bone chewing a common and helpful practice that healers worldwide had started to encourage. Still it didn't explain the current problem... ah, there. Two teeth from the back on the starboard side, upper jaw was a nasty abscess. It had completely covered the tooth it had grown around, the gum being nothing more than a sack of fluid dangling off the jaw. And it went deep, well past the gum. The little bump that Richard had noticed topside above her lip was the extension of it. She sucked in a breath. She'd seen this type of abscessing before, particularly in older ships. It stemmed from a rare disease in the jawbone that spread out through the lymphomas blocking passageways and caused abscesses to form behind these blockages. Richard narrowed her eyes, leaning in a bit closer to see if there were any other, yes there were. Dozens of them lining the back of the barque's throat. They were out of her reach and even if she could reach them and drain them, they would just grow back. Eventually, they'd grown to the point where they would block the airways and her barque acquaintance would suffocate.

Richard pulled back. "You have a name?" She asked quietly. "Oh yes. HMS Lord Sandwich." Despite herself, Richard had to laugh but she was polite and reserved herself to a snicker. Sandwich glared. "I didn't choose my name!" She cried indignantly. "Sorry just, okay Bonehome Richard. Can I call you Sand?" She asked. "If I can call you Bonnie." Sandwich replied, a twinkle in her eyes. Richard grinned. "Alright Sand, I must thank you in advance." "Why?" "Because your dental situation is allowing me to apply a new trick of mine that I picked up. Haven't had the pleasure of trying it yet. I call it the plywood drop." "And what does it do?" Sand's deadpan look nearly sent Richard a fit of giggles but she restrained herself. "Simple. I tie one end of a piece of twine around your troublesome tooth while the other end goes around a piece of plywood. Drop the plywood and the weight yanks the twine and pulls the tooth out." Richard explained. "That's ridiculous!" "Oh come on. It'll work. I just know it! Please let me try it out. For science." Sand's eyes lit up at the word and Richard felt her heart soar. "Yes, thank you. Okay, this won't hurt a bit. Open your mouth again please." Rolling her eyes, Sand complied. Richard tied the end of twine around the sack and the tooth. Both would have to come out to relieve the pressure. The other end she took a piece of heavy driftwood that was more liable to sink rather than float. "Ready?" She asked and Sand nodded. Richard snorted at how silly she looked with the twine bobbing from her mouth. Sand's glare shut her up and she went back to business. "Three, two, one." Sand gave a yelp as the plywood dropped and swiftly sank to the bottom of the harbor but when she opened her mouth again, the tooth and sack were gone, its fluids staining her other teeth. "Huh, seems I had an abscess there." She remarked, feeling the hole in her gum where the tooth had been. "A big one. I'm amazed you were able to eat anything at all really." Richard said. "Practice." Sand shrugged. At Richard's questioning look she elaborated. "I wasn't always a home front ship. I used to go on long voyages across the globe. Tried all sorts of foreign cuisines. Some required rather elaborate chewing." Richard patted her and held up the tooth. "You want to keep it?" She asked. "Let the Tooth Fairy come by and give you a few shillings in return." "Bonnie," She sighed, using the Yank's name for the first time. "There's no such thing as the Tooth Fairy." And that was all Richard needed to launch into conversation. Or perhaps argument might be the better word.


	59. Blockade: Part 2

Sand had to leave for her watch once more but promised she'd be back afterwards. Richard had nothing to do but wait so she decided to use her time to catch up on some news. Reading was a pastime that she'd adopted more out of curiosity than necessity. Ships weren't required to be literate although it certainly had its perks such as keeping her from adopting a severe case of boredom. Such prevention were something that the Royal Navy were no doubt grateful for although they had no idea they should be grateful. Richard could become quiet the nuisance when she had nothing to do, becoming a real pain in the stern just to be one. Setting down her copy of the Pennsylvania Gazette (That Phillips had a keen way with a pen. Richard would have to speak to her one day if they ever met) she switched opened a column in the London Times. Although it was a few weeks old which was to be expected having traversed the Atlantic, the British papers, though propaganda, did sometimes contain juicy gossip or just plain old convenient information about what was happening in parliament. Having finished her article on the latest antics between Lord North and the King, (Ol' Georgie just couldn't seem to accept reality) she turned the page and got the shock of her life. "By Britannia's barnacle encrusted keel!" She swore. Several British ships stuffed their rigging lines in their ears to block out the vulgar while some of the old salts just grinned appreciatively. "Language!" shouted a barque. She was similar in looks to Sand although had a much better kept appearance. Her gold plated figurehead suggested she was a ship of rank and was that an exploration medal pinned to her foremast? Annoyance in her meddling won out over curiosity and Richard gave as good as she got. "Well excuse me madam if I just made had the shock of a lifetime!" She sneered. "What's got you so roused up anyways Yank?" She sniffed, moving up beside her. She snatched the newspaper out of Richard's rigging much to the Yank's displeasure. The limey ignored her but her expression quickly changed from haughtiness to one of horror. "It cannot be." She rasped. Her face contorted with sorrow and she tipped her head back, giving a loud wail of grief. She dropped the newspaper, allowing it to drift back in front of Richard who let it soak through with water and sink to the bottom of the harbor, the words on the front page clearly visible in brilliant bold letters. **"Captain Cook: Killed in Hawaii."** No one, not even Richard got much sleep that night. The grieving barque, who's name she learned was Adventure, was being held at her side. She knew Cook, had sailed under him on his second voyage and the Yank ensured she could grieve in peace.

Sand returned from her patrol in the morning oblivious. She'd been out of earshot when Adventure had given her cry. She was a bit surprised to see her fellow barque at her dock. "Replacing me already Bonnie?" She teased. "Shhh!" Richard hissed with such force she surprised them both. Sand blinked but did as she was told. "Poor thing had quite the shock last night, we all did." Richard sighed. "She only just fell asleep." The Yank shifted only slightly but enough to reveal Adventure's peaceful but tear stained face. Sand went from cheerful to protective in an instant. "What happened?" She demanded. Richard winced. "You know of Franklin's "free passport" offer to your two explorer ships?" She asked. Sand nodded. "Yeah, that was nice of you Yanks to allow James safe passage through your waters. What about it?" "It's, not going to be needed now." Sand bowed her head, a shiver of sorrow running throughout her hull. "Ancients." She breathed. "Hawaiian natives before you ask. There was a confrontation on both sides. Best I can figure is apparently Cook pissed the Chief off, the Chief took some of his men hostage and things went downhill from there. Cook got ambushed with his back to the surf. The man can't swim so as soon as the natives knocked him over..." "Stop, please." Sand's voice was soft but sharp as though it could break at any second. "Sorry." And for once in her life Richard actually was sorry. Remorse was an odd but somewhat peaceful feeling, she'd have to look into it more. She sighed. "Did you know him?" She asked. To her surprise, Sand nodded. "More than that." She sniffled and hiccuped once before continuing. "Be-before I was renamed, I was known as Endeavor. I sailed under him on his first voyage." "You- so here are two ships that have both served under Cook in the same harbor. Huh, small world." Richard said. Her words brought a slight smile to Sand's face. "Yeah, guess it kinda is." She agreed. Seeing her sorrowful state and knowing there was enough room if she got the right position, she gestured to her side. "Come on. Get warm." "You sure? It's already pretty cramped without my fat hull getting in the way." Despite herself, Richard snickered. There was the Sand she'd come to like. "More than enough. Come on." Sand smiled for real this time, happily settling next to the merchant, her head resting on Richard's shoulder. Her cold hull made contact with Adventure who shifted away at the sudden touch. "S' cold." She mumbled, still mostly asleep and snuggled tighter into Richard's much warmer hull. The Yank blushed. Now much more relaxed, Sand dropped off to sleep quickly. She was still weighed down by grief, they all were and likely would be for some time but at least sleep brought about some resemblance of peace. With her two friends fast asleep at her side, Richard had no problems joining them. She nuzzled Adventure who purred, wrapping some of her rigging around her midsection. As she warmed up, Sand shifted more against Adventure who cuddled to her. The two looked absolutely adorable together and Richard couldn't help but coo at the sight. Though combined the two warships were larger than her, curled up as they were made it easier for her to keep both at her side. Using Sand's forecastle as a pillow Richard quickly dropped off to sleep.


	60. Hood and Olympic: (1919-1935)

_Here's an usual story for y'all. One I've been sitting on_ _forever!_ _In my world, Olympic was chosen as the next flagship of the RN after WW1 and chose Hood as her deputy. History pretty much takes it from there._

 **A Comprehensive Report on the Relationship between HMS Hood (51) and HMT Olympic (T219).  
** USS Constitution, _HMS Belfast,_ and RMS Nomadic

My flagship, Olympic was launched in the fall of 1910. She made deputy of White Star by the summer of the following year and was flagship following Oceanic's death in 1914. It was during the war that she displayed the makings that would eventually see her in command of the Royal Navy. For decades rumors have circulated about a potential love triangle involving the battlecruiser Hood, American flagship Arizona, and RN flagship Olympic. The bond between the American and RN flagships is known and well documented but no one really knows the extent of which Hood was involved with either partner. Her position with her flagship Olympic has remained the subject of rumor and speculation since the first murmurings of a scandal in 1925. The following is a final report based upon numerous eyewitness accounts and documented evidence on just what kind of relationship Olympic and her RN deputy Hood really had.

 **Part 1: Introductions**  
Olympic first met Hood in the spring of 1919, half a year before Dreadnought, the current RN flagship, died of influenza. With the war barely over Britain was licking its wounds in the aftermath leaving all the ships, especially the civilians who were hit the hardest, to pick up the pieces. HMS Implacable, who witnessed the first meeting, later recalled _"They were both civil and professional at first contact. Olympic was respectful of Hood's superior status as a warship, be it only a simple battlecruiser like myself with no war record yet to her name. And Hood likewise showed respect for a ship who had served through all four years of a conflict that she herself had played little part in, being born too late to play such a part. And it wasn't like Olympic was without merits of her own even if she was just a liner. She had sunk a submarine, a feat only our flagship Dreadnought could also claim. And Hood was well aware and admired this plucky civilian." ~ HMS Implacable, January 16 1920_  
Numerous other eyewitness accounts, including written ones by Dreadnought herself, clearly support this and also suggest that Hood more than "admired" Olympic. As Dreadnought put it _"Olympic, though with the weak and feeble body of a civilian ocean liner, had the heart and mind of a warship of solid steel. Snowdrop used to say that she was originally meant to be a warship but that Belfast built her wrong. Hood, fresh from losing her siblings to the onset of peace, took to Olympic in a manner that I can only describe as sisterly. Olympic, having the misfortune of losing her siblings, one in peace, the other in the war, secretly longed for another and seeing them together I truly believe she did." ~ From the Written Testimony of HMS Dreadnought, RN Commander (1908-1919), February 21, 1919_

 **Part 2: The "Relationship"- Early Years  
** I was always Olympic's first stop on transAtlantic voyeurs. I'd be the first to see her after she'd left Southampton. I remember one day seeing her for the first time since the war's end. She looked happier. Before she'd been weighed down by the grief of Britannic. She wouldn't say what had cheered her up and I had assumed her relationship with the American warship Arizona had been taken a step further. I never asked, it wasn't my place to pry. But I later learned that it was around this time that Olympic began cavorting with the battlecruiser Hood.

The documentation begins to break down between 1919 and 1922 but what we do know is that at one point during this time frame, Olympic's relationship with my flagship Arizona became strained following a fierce row. Olympic, following this, began to spend more time at the RN base at Cowes. By the time 1924 had ended, it was clear that Hood and Olympic were far more than just friends although the full extent of their relationship remained unknown. If they were lovers they kept it well hidden.

 **Part 3: The "Relationship"- Scandal  
** The first notice that anyone outside the command circle of the RN got wind of a potential scandal involving the flagship and her deputy was in 1925 following a successful circumnavigation conducted by Hood. Her return to the home waters was met with much fanfare. Naturally, this "party" as it were quickly became rowdy and by the time the MPs arrived to calm things down it was clear that Olympic and Hood were not present. Where they went and what they did that night remains a mystery that not even I know the answer to and is the source of the start of the rumors that have swirled around them ever since. Some ships claim they saw the pair heading out towards the Solent. Others still claim they went inside the fort, presumably to get away from the rowdy crowd outside. But neither Olympic nor Hood were extremely bothered by loud crowds. Olympic as an British ocean liner during the American Prohibition Era was used to drunkenness and Hood had just returned from a year long world tour in which hundreds of thousands of people had flocked to visit her in ports across the globe. Still, the debate about what went on remains just that, a debate.

 **Part 4: The "Relationship"- Arizona  
** Much of what we do know about a potential meinaso'trois comes from the diaries and journals of USS Arizona, flagship of the United States Navy from 1920 until her death in 1941. The battleship's insight and eye for detail has proven to be invaluable in solving many of the mysteries surrounding the two British officers. One entry in particular stands out: _"Yesterday I was involved in a confrontation with RN deputy HMS Hood. I met her off the Virgin Islands, in-between one of our_ (American) _islands and one of hers. She told me in no uncertain terms that I should stay away from Olympic, her flagship. This is not the first time she has challenged me. The last time we met was under less civil circumstances. She attacked me off New York following an argument of sorts with Olympic that I intervened in. I do not blame her for what she did nor the damage she caused to my hull as I had no business getting involved as I did anyhow but I cannot shake the feeling that she is a threat to me. I get an odd feeling whenever I am around her. I do not believe it has to do with her being a foreign high ranking warship for I have not felt that with Olympic and she is my counterpart in the RN, the expected position for a potential territorial dispute._ (flagships are extremely territorial and as such they are usually not seen together in port, especially in one's own territory) _I wish I could better understand it as this feeling concerns me. The last thing I want is for a fight between us to cause a rift with Olympic. Hood is after all, her cherished deputy and I would feel the same if she acted the way Hood does with Pennsylvania..."~ Journals of USS Arizona, US Navy Commander (1920-1941), June 14, 1931._ This quote more than anything suggests that Hood and Olympic did have some sort of bond even if it wasn't the same caliber of soul sister bond that Arizona shared with the RN flagship and that Arizona was not a part of whatever bond Hood and Olympic had. Two different bonds between three different ships in close proximity have not been known to react well to one another when exposed. The two strings rub against each other, attracted by the other's presence. This tugs at the minds of each ship involved and creates unheeded friction between them. So the question of whether or not Hood and Olympic had a bond can be laid to rest with a resounding yes. What kind of bond and the extent of it remains unknown although new evidence based upon the testimony of HMS Royal Oak may be able to shed some light on this.

 **Part 5: The "Relationship"- Loss  
** _Olympic was inevitably sold to the scrappers in 1935, leaving Hood in charge of the RN and RMS Majestic in charge of White Star. All accounts suggest the two got along splendidly, even going as far as to educate the White Star and Cunard ships_ (after the merger) _in naval matters and granting each line flagship a place at the table in the decision making. Besides the proud professional conduct that Hood held herself to, endearing her to many of her RN subordinates, we now are aware of a darker side to Britain's mighty flagship. Testimony from HMS Royal Oak, an old WW1 battleship that was bonded to Hood and served as her deputy from 1935 until her death in 1939, has reemerged allowing us valuable insight into the ship that by all other accounts, appeared to be indestructible._ "HOOD returned to Scapa Flow today, having visited our former flagship OLYMPIC at the breakers yard. I don't know why she goes as each time she does it only makes her sadder. I've tried asking her about it but she is reluctant to speak so I let the subject go. Still though, I wonder what it is about OLYMPIC that makes HOOD so desperate to see her." ~ Written Testimony of HMS Royal Oak, recorded June 10, 1936. _It is clear from this testimony that Hood cared deeply for her flagship, more so than her professional side would suggest. But the extent of that care becomes painfully clear when one reads this passage, again from Royal Oak, which was recorded the day before her death by German submarine._ "On the morning of September 27, 1936, I returned home from a patrol to resupply at our historic fleet anchorage in Portsmouth. It was there that I learned from a harbor tug that HOOD had returned the previous night, disappearing into our many docks that lined the shoreline. She hadn't been seen sense although her cries had been occasionally heard. Not for some time though. Concern driving me, I sailed to the area that the tugboat had indicated my flagship was last seen and got the shock of my life to say the least. There was HOOD lying on her starboard side with all manner of cuts crisscrossing her flanks and superstructure. A mostly empty bottle of fine scotch was still clutched in her rigging. I immediately made haste to summon our fleet healer, VICTORY who swiftly diagnosed the wounds as self-inflicted. It was then that I knew, even without HOOD'S pain throbbing across our bond, that OLYMPIC and HOOD had shared a bond of their own. A bond, I knew, that had been so cruelly and tragically severed the previous night. Several more of these "cutting/drinking" sessions followed along with one suicide attempt over the next several months. It was with great joy and relief that I witnessed the retreat of this depression in HOOD the following May."~ Spoken Testimony of HMS Royal Oak, recorded October 13, 1939.

 _I myself knew of Hood during these days. Not once did her professional demeanor falter although we all knew of her feared temper behind closed doors, especially at night once duties for the day had been finished. Hood always had a temper but I recall distinctly hearing from HMS Caledonia, a converted warship who was the former RMS Majestic, that Hood's temper had only become as bad as it did following HMT Olympic's death. Between 1939 and 1941 I got to know Hood well and served as a shoulder for her to cry on following Oak's death in October of the former year. I had heard rumors about her suicide attempt in 1936 and fully expected another to follow in the wake of her severed bond. And yet none came. She was depressed, her temper shorter than ever, but she never sank to the depths of her depression like she had when Olympic died. It may've been because we were at war whereas when Olympic died, we were not and that has been known to have a profound impact on every warship's mentality. Emotions become non-existent and severe ones like those following a severed bond become repressed and diluted with the riggers of war. This is precisely what I saw in Hood. I have no doubts that she shared a bond with Oak and Olympic. Whether those bonds were of the same caliber and strength we may never know._

 **Part 6: Final Thoughts  
** While Olympic was not a secretive ship by nature she was most certainly guarded when it came to the subject of Hood and would defend her deputy to the ends of the earth if need be. She was very protective of her. The Big Sister in her that had been lacking following her siblings demise was present as soon as Hood's mere name was mentioned. I'd see her straighten, ears tuned into whoever was making up the conversation and if she heard anything disrespectful, she made sure to let her displeasure be known.

 _Hood had always been a private ship. Whatever demons she carried she kept them close, so close that I doubt even Royal Oak knew what they were. She'd been scarred by the loss of her sisters and I feel it is that loss which so endeared her to Olympic, the merchant being in a very similar situation. The two naturally fit together and when they split apart the result, while tragic and painful to remember, was not as bad as it could've been. And I believe I have Olympic to thank for that. She had taken on the role of Big Sister to Hood and taught her everything she needed to know about life while Hood taught her everything she needed to know about leading the Royal Navy. If there was any sex involved, it was for education purposes only, purposes that Royal Oak later appreciated as I can attest to._

There is no question that Hood and Olympic shared a bond. While Olympic certainly had a mate in Arizona it is not uncommon for ships to have more than one mate at a time. But having reviewed all the evidence, the hypothesis that Hood and Olympic had such a relationship is very unlikely. Here's a final parting thought from the journal of USS Arizona, who witnessed the two ships evolve over the 15 years they served together. _"There is no question in my mind that my beloved Olympic has a bond with her deputy. I never sensed it from her but Olympic has always been secretive about matters of the heart and it is not my place to pry into that which she wishes kept hidden from me. I have heard it suggested by the scandalists that her bond with the British battlecruiser is one similar in nature to our own. I find this suggestion ludicrous. Not out of bias but because whenever I have seen Hood and Olympic together, my beloved does not act in such a manner as she had with me. There is something distinctly more familial about their relationship, something that I am grateful to have developed with Pennsylvania. They were sisters, not lovers. Olympic who had both her sisters tragically torn away from her in peace and in war, became a fifth member of the Admiral-class. And Hood, who had been deprived of even ever knowing her siblings_ (Hood witnessed the premature deaths of Rodney and Nelson while seeing Anson born stillborn. All while still on the ways in the Clyde.) _became a fourth member of the Olympic-class. The two were sister-ships plain and simple. There's was a relationship that blossomed as fruitfully as ours did. Without Olympic, Hood never would've survived to be the warship she is today. And even I could do so much for Olympic. My beloved needed a sister and Hood became that sister. She fulfilled that need in a way that I never could. They lived and served together as one unit and the RN and by extension the whole of Britain benefited from their sisterhood." ~ From the Eulogy for HMS Hood by USS Arizona, May 28, 1941._


	61. Blockade: Part 3

Endeavor had her bow into the wind, ignoring the rain that pelted her face as she rode her anchor just outside the mouth of Newport Harbor. The old barque didn't waste any time berthside as she performed the age old adage of men and ships everywhere "When in grief, go to work!" Some work it was though. Playing sentry for a Yankee port was worse than sitting dockside. Now she had time to confront her grief while on duty! The old barque sighed, a quiver sent through her decks which creaked softly. The sound helped those men below decks that had yet to fall asleep and soothed those who were still awake. If their ship was relaxed, so were they. Despite her outward appearance of calm, inwardly Endeavor was seething. A roiling bubbling anger churned in a black caldron within her heart. She liked the anger, it didn't make her feel so broken. The anger wasn't directed at the Hawaiians, no they did what they felt right by them and if there was one thing Endeavor had learned from her years of exploration it was to respect other people's cultures, not trod on them. But despite James' own apparent undoing, she did not blame him either. She could never blame him. No, the anger was directed at herself. She was not there when he needed her. She would've known something was wrong with him, that temper was so unlike him. She would've kept it and him in line.

 _9 years earlier, New Holland_

Endeavor was wary as she weaved her way through the small outcroppings of reefs that lined the ocean on all sides of her. She never knew such a large concentration of reefs could exist. But that was her job, discovering the undiscovered. The reefs extended all the way to the coast, currently 40 km away and went out another 20 km behind her. The reefs acted like a barrier, preventing the large swells of the open ocean to pummel the coast. A Great Barrier Reef. Hmph, she'd have to suggest the name to James. Her master was always willing to hear her suggestions. That, among many other qualities, is what made James Cook a great man in her eyes. The other captain's she'd had were competent and she'd learned to trust their skills but where their hand was commandeering, Cook's was guiding. He trusted her, respected her as a living being. Endeavor was more grateful for that than she could ever put into words. She eyed the depth sounder as it came up, seeing the reading as fairly deep. Good, that meant the next one would be...

Pain unlike anything she'd ever felt shot through Endeavor's keel and down her larboard side. She could immediately feel seawater pouring and and could tell by the instant halt she'd come to that she'd struck coral. With all the outcroppings around it was a wonder she'd made it this far north without hitting anything. "Ah, I knew it was too good to be true." She groaned. "Endeavor, are you alright?" James' calm voice was a welcome relief to the critically injured ship. She managed a small nod. "I can manage sir." She hissed out through gritted teeth. "No she can't." Seeterly replied immediately as he came up on deck. "There's a large hole in her starboard side, blood's pouring out as fast as the water's coming in. We don't plug it and she's going down." "Damn it Endeavor." James hissed and immediately dove belowdecks to try and work out a solution. For her part, Endeavor was in too much pain to regret lying to him. James by nature was a perfectionist and a bit of a worrier. If she'd told him how bad off she really was it would've saved them precious time but that would be time he'd spend worrying for her safety. Flattering but also damn annoying at times. She sighed. _"Oh well, was worth a try."_ She thought. She was vaguely aware of her boys trying valiantly to lighten her load and re float her but if that hole wasn't patched she wouldn't last past nightfall even if she was that lucky. Endeavor gave a low groan as her hull began to slide back off the reef. Her keel was not happy with her. She could tell she'd left behind parts of her false keel on that reef. The hole still poured water in as Endeavor bled out into the water. Sharks came looking for a feast, attracted by the scent. "What about a fother?" One midshipman asked. "It's as good a try as any I've heard." Endeavor groaned. "Do it!" The patch was assembled with all haste and the barque found the strength to pull herself off the reef and back out into open water. Still though, James was concerned particularly with the way that his ship was favoring her starboard side, limping more rather than straight sailing. "We've got to get you beached somewhere, Endeavor." "Where? There's no where around here you can beach me unless you want to try another reef!" James bit back his retort knowing the old barque was sharped tongued because she was hurting, more so than she'd care to admit most likely. She could be stubborn like that sometimes, kind of like himself. "Sir, I have a suggestion." She said. "I'm always all ears for that, Endeavor. Go ahead." He ordered gently. "The collection of reefs we've been sailing through, we should call it altogether Great Barrier Reef." Despite himself James chuckled. "Endeavor," He said. "Truer words have never been spoken before. Enough to block the surf and stop a great ship in her tracks, Great Barrier indeed."

It took 3 days hard sailing until Endeavor reached a safe haven. A nice natural river channel allowed her to slip easily inland before James drove her onto a beach. Usually, either he or the carpenter would perform some kind of pressure point action that would cause her to roll into the careen position but Endeavor was so exhausted she needed no such urging. As soon as her keel struck sand she rolled on her port side, exposing her starboard flank. The size of the hole was clearly visible. "Dear god." breathed James. The second his fingers touched the wound, he was immediately coated with sand kicked up by the writhing Endeavor. "Easy, easy old girl." Running his hands down her hull in uninjured places quickly calmed her. Endeavor merely whimpered in reply, her eyes wide but trusting. If anything, that just made his heart sink more. She was trusting him with her life and if he couldn't repair her... No, if he failed they would all die and he would surely be the first to go. Living with someone for 3 years ensured you got to know a lot about that person. Living on someone was another matter entirely. He knew Endeavor inside and out in every sense of the term. He knew her every trait, quirk, and sometimes adorable, sometimes annoyance tendency to ask for belly rubs. For some reason most ships liked having their bellies rubbed but Endeavor was the first to actually ask him for one. That wasn't the only thing she was forward about either.

Disrupting that chain of thought for now, he focused on the task at hand. His eyes turned a large piece of coral, sticking out from her flank. Around it were the tatters of the fother. The makeshift patch had sealed around the coral, ensuring a nearly watertight plug. But if it hadn't been for that chunk of reef, they would've lost Endeavor a long ways from here. Oh, the irony! "There's a chunk of reef stuck in your hull there old girl. You know what I have to do." Oh he was dreading this! This was sure to hurt and Monkhouse did not have any kind of sedatives, not even the standard poppy seeds used for ships by ships for centuries. They just didn't grow in this part of the world. Endeavor knew this as well as James did and regarding him she gave a brief simple nod. "Do it." She rasped. "On the count of three." James steeled himself, getting both his hands around chunk. "Three." He gave it a fierce yank and it shot out, taking a part of Endeavor's hull with it. Almost instantly blood sprayed everywhere as the hole was opened once more. James was quickly soaked in it, noting its thick greasy properties and distinctive tarlike scent. Worst of all though was Endeavor's scream. Oh she screamed so loudly that it was a wonder the people behind the fires they saw earlier coming in didn't rush down to the shore to finish her off. Backhanding the offending coral to Seetterly, James put all his focus into calming his injured ship. Again, he ran his hands down her hull, whispering soothings to her. Endeavor responded by ceasing her struggles and her cries quietened to a soft but pitiful whimper. As Seetterly and Monkhouse worked on patching her wound, James made his way to her bow. She gazed up at him, blue eyes bloodshot and glazed with the unimaginable agony she must've been going through, but trusting and loving all the same. He sighed, dropping to his knees beside her as he placed hand over her snout. He felt more than saw the small fuzz of hairs there, hairs that for the most part remained the yellow of her hull but some had already started to turn white. The stress of this voyage wasn't helping matters either and he reckoned by the time they reached England, Endeavor would have a completely white muzzle more benefiting a ship twice her age. "It'll make you look distinguished though darling." He assured her. She offered a half-chuff half-snort that he'd come to recognize as her laugh. Good, she still had her sense of humor. Perhaps all was not lost then. He ran the back of his right hand across her cheek. Berifit of its usual glove, Endeavor caught sight of one of the rarer things her master revealed. Those scars, scars that a long time ago had nearly cost him his life but in the end he survived with only two fingers missing. A lucky man indeed. And she was lucky too, to have him at her helm. She gave his left hand a nudge, it had been idle on her snout for too long and she needed something pleasant to distract her from the work Monthouse and Seettley were doing. James caught on and began stroking her. "We'll have you fixed up in no time. You're safe with us Endeavor. Rest, rest now my sweet." Endeavor's harsh pants calmed and the last thing she heard before falling asleep was "I'll stay here with you. I'll always protect you, Endeavor. Do not fear."

...

A bolt of lighting snapped Endeavor out of her memories and she blinked, seeing the storm unfolding in front of her. The rain streaked down harder and faster than before and the constant wind driven sea spray didn't help matters either. She sighed, blinking the rain out of her eyes only to find that didn't help. Her vision just blurred even more and she could only vaguely make out another ship beside her, her silhouette outlined by the flashes of lighting. "Bonnie? What are you doing out of the harbor? No, how are you out of the harbor? Did no one stop you?" "Adventure gave me a free pass. Said you could use some company." The merchant replied, not moving from her position. "Did she now." Endeavor sighed. "Well, you needent bother. I'm fine." "The fact that you were crying for the last 10 minutes suggests to me otherwise." Richard countered. Endeavor frowned. Checking her chronometer determined she'd been out here for 3 hours. Had she really been in her memories that long. She sighed. "Well, I will be. I'm tough, a survivor." She said, trying to put on a brave front. A front that started to slip the second Richard's nose touched hers. "I know. Those wounds on your keel suggest you can take a beating. But you don't have to go through the healing process alone." "I've done just fine with it the last 9 years!" Endeavor hissed. "Aye and in how much of that time have you known or cared for a man like you did James Cook." Richard countered. The barque's silence was her answer. She nodded. "Mm hmm, you need help. And I'm here to help." "Go away. I hate you." Endeavor growled but there was not a single drop of true malice in her voice. "Endeavor," It was the first time Richard had called her by her original name. Her _true_ name. The name that James had given her and it got her attention. "You aren't alone in this." Endeavor wasn't sure what finally broke her all she knew was that the water started pouring from her eyes and in the next instant she was being held against a strong hull. The barque let herself go, refusing to give into exhaustion even as her weary body ached from the toll the pain both emotional and physical was having upon it. She would cry until she could cry no more. Until either her tearducs dried up or her grief became manageable enough for her to suppress it. Richard never said a word that night, not even as Endeavor cried out in anguish, words intermixing with loud screams. "HE TRUSTED ME!" She wailed. "HE TRUSTED ME TO CARRY HIM AROUND THE WORLD AND WHEN I NEARLY DIED HE NURSED ME BACK TO HEALTH. HE PROMISED, **HE PROMISED HE'D ALWAYS BE THERE!"** Endeavor buried her bow into Richard's shoulder. "I COULD'VE SAVED HIM. I SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE TO SAVE HIM. AFTER EVERYTHING HE'S DONE FOR ME, I ABANDON HIM!" "You did no such thing." Bonnie's tone was harsh but sympathetic still. "You did your duty, you returned him to England. The roll beyond that became another ship's duty. And if anyone failed it was Resolution. It was not. Your. Fault!" Endeavor still cried though. The fact that she was not to blame, a fact that Endeavor would never deny but would still resolutely blame herself anyways, was little comfort for the barque. James Cook was more than just a captain to her, any ship who met her knew that. They had never bonded but Endeavor loved him like they were. She'd given her body, mind, heart, and soul to him and in return he'd shown her wonders she'd never dreamed existed. They made the perfect team. And yet, here she was, alone on some rebel shore of an emerging nation on guard duty of all things while her beloved fought and died thousands of miles away. If she was close to him, if she had tried to help, even if the outcome remained the same, she could better deal with it. At least she tried. But here, in Newport, Endeavor never had a chance to.

Richard's hull was getting increasingly soaked more from Endeavor's tears than the oncoming Atlantic swells. She knew it was best if they both headed in but Endeavor was in no condition to sail at the moment and Richard would be damned if she ever left her like this. She resolved to stay with her and if they both sank in this storm, then so be it. The merchant did not fear death, her only fear and concern was for Endeavor. After another 3 hours it was nearly done and both ships were worn down and ragged. Richard mostly carried Endeavor to their berth, passing Adventure on the way. The sloop gave Endeavor a pitying look and Richard took note that she was not that much better off. But it was her turn to play guard duty and Richard knew better than to try and stop her. "I'll be out later." She promised her and Adventure nodded. "Thank you, USS Bonhome Richard." She replied softly. It took Richard's sleep deprived brain a minute to decipher what the British ship had said. By the time she understood, Adventure was already sailing out to sea. "Adventure!" Richard called. The sloop paused and turned back to look at her. There was respect in that gaze with just a hint of mischief. Richard tried to think of something intelligent to say. But she didn't have to, Adventure knew what her unspoken words were and she smiled, dipping her prow before rounding the spit and vanishing out of sight.

Richard got Endeavor settled into the berth and kissed the top of her head. "In another life, I would've been honored to sail alongside you both." She whispered. Endeavor settled nicely into her side, somehow managing to twist her larger bulk into a position that was both cuddly and comfortable. Richard tried to work through her brain spasm at how adorable she looked. The merchant was exhausted but she stayed awake for another hour, ensuring that Endeavor was calmly asleep and would not have any nightmares before falling asleep herself.


	62. Arctic Ghost

KING WILLIAM ISLAND SUMMER 1904

"Gjoa, can you tell me exactly how thee got in here?" asked the sloop's three masted friend.

Gjoa thought for a moment. "I will do my best do describe it to you." She replied.

 _Gjoa was an old ship, and she was barely a ship. She was small, only 70 feet in length with a single mast carrying only a minuscule amount of canvas. Not exactly ideal for punching through ice but icebreaking is what she did. She'd spent the last 2 years training for this and now it was time. Her chance to make history as the first ship to sail through the Northwest Passage. Many had tried, many had failed. "I won't fail." She growled. "Never." She was Norwegian built. If any ship could make it, she could._

 _She made good progress the first year, zig zagging her way through thick ice floes up into the northern reaches of Canada through Baffin Bay and the Arctic Archipelago and punching though the thinner ones. Passing between two charted islands she turned south, seeing the impenetrable polar ice cap to the north. Even she would not dare try to break through there. Crossing the entrance to the massive Hudson Bay she continued west before dipping into another more secluded bay surrounded by islands._

"And that's how I found you." She finished.

"Not very descriptive." The other ship grunted.

"I'm not good with all that navigation stuff." Gjoa admitted.

"Well thus a pity. And here I was just beginning to think thou were't intelligent too."

"Hey!"

The old ship's unusual blue eyes held a mischievous glint to them so Gjoa knew she was teasing. The sloop had first met the larger ship after having approached King William Island. The find was unexpected but not unwelcome as it turned out. Her friend had been stuck in the ice for decades by Gjoa's count and had been half-mad by the time the sloop had arrived. She was much better than she used to be although she still looked like a wreck. She had her bad days, they both did, but they were made better by each other's company. After a year and a half stuck in the ice, Gjoa wondered just how her friend did it for decades. She was already growing impatient.

"Thou may get used to it. Accept that thou will never sail anywhere. If the ice decides to let thee out, thee are free. If not well," She shrugged. "I am a pretty good example of what happens."

Gjoa nodded. "Were you, scared?"

A scoff. "Of course I was. I was no stranger to polar conditions. Last time I was stuck in ice, I got shoved 30 feet up an iceberg. Near about killed me. So I knew the dangers. Ice can be beautiful yes but it can also tear a ship apart. Once I clung to the hope that I could be free, perhaps find my sister even. But now I fear she has befallen the Arctic ice. I shall never see her again."

Gjoa pressed her nose to her side, nearly shrinking back at how cold she felt. Her friend smelled of nothing but the ice and endless Canadian coastline. Had she been here so long that no other scent remained? Gjoa knew from her accent that she was British but beyond that she could only guess. She'd never given her name. Perhaps she no longer remembered it.

Steadying herself, Gjoa offered a daring proposal. "I can get you out of here." She said.

"Thou do not speak nonsense to me! The ice is too thick for thee hull!" The mad light was back in her eyes again and Gjoa suppressed a sigh. This was going to be a long two years.

The ice retreated again the following summer enough so that Gjoa could bash her way out, once in open water it was tempting to sail onward, take opportunity while it presented itself but Gjoa would not leave a friend behind. Especially not one who had proven time and again, despite her cracking sanity, that she was a good ship. Gjoa pushed her way back into the frozen hell, making a wide circle around her friend.

"I've done what I can, come on now." She panted.

"It is no use." If anything, her friend's voice was more hollow than before. As if Gjoa being free had weakened her further.

"You have to try. I'm not leaving you behind."

"Thou shall not be a fool!" The dark mad light in her eyes was frightening but Gjoa held her ground. She could be stubborn right back.

"If I am a fool, then so I am." She replied softly.

She snarled in response but Gjoa's words seemed to reach her demented mind. She stretched her bow out, hull straining until slowly she began to move. Gjoa carved a path for her which she followed resolutely and before long she was free. The feel of moving water beneath her keel was one she had not experienced in decades and she relished in it, the madness subsiding if only for a time. "Oh," She gasped softly.

Gjoa sat back and watched her sail around, amazed at how graceful she was given her decrepit state. Eventually she tired and sidled up alongside the sloop, instinctively cuddling into her lee. Gjoa purred at the closest contact she'd ever had with the older larger ship. It felt warming, despite her friend's hull being colder than hers was. It was like she was dead and yet she was clearly alive. The hot breath that Gjoa felt on top of her head told her as much. The sloop pressed her head under hers, muzzle nuzzling her throat. A soft sigh followed seconds later by a gentle purr filled Gjoa's ears. For a few minutes the two ships sat together like this, relishing in freedom and each other.

Gjoa moved first. "Anything you can tell me about this area? Anchorages. Places to get supplies, vitals."

Her friend nodded. "Of course, this way. Hopefully I can still recall where that inlet was." She half muttered to herself.

Gjoa ignored the last bit. If she had to tough it out with what she had she would and she knew her friend was still not used to company so perception of madness could be a bit skewed in this case. The pair sailed up a small river channel, the larger ship still muttering things to herself. Gjoa didn't understand a word of it. She was speaking way too fast and that British accent was difficult for her to cipher through.

At last her friend stopped and looking around her Gjoa could see why. Two massive cliffs marked the entrance to a large river channel flowing westward. It was an important clue for Gjoa. So far all river's she'd encountered flowed in one of two directions, east or south. But if water flowed west that meant the Pacific was near. The end of the passage was near.

"I know these cliffs." Gjoa had to strain to hear her friend's voice and sailed up closer to listen better. "The last time I was here under Back. Oh yes that t'was fun time. Fun time. These cliffs are just as Endeavor said. The entrance to the Pacific, the road to the end of the Passage." She turned to Gjoa. "And where I must leave thee."

"But why? You can come with me. We can return you home together." Gjoa protested.

Her friend shook her head. "My old timbers cannot sail beyond these waters. The rest of the voyage thee must do alone. I shall be here though if thou ever return."

"I can't just leave you here."

"It is too late for me. No fault of thou I assure thee but I have long since been befelled by the ice."

"You mean you- you're a ghost ship." Gjoa whispered.

"Aye, doomed to sail these waters until Judgement Day." Despite her gloomy predicament she smiled at her. "But I must thank thou."

"For what?"

"I may be stuck here but thanks to thee, I have found yet a purpose. From now on any ship that sails through that channel will be under my protection. I shall guide them through these treacherous waters. 'Tis a much better task than to wonder aimlessly."

"I wish it didn't have to be this way." Gjoa murmured. "I'll miss you."

"I shall miss thee too my friend. Though if thou shall ever pass this way again, know I shall be here." She touched noses with Gjoa. In that moment something remarkable happened. Her friend no longer looked like a wreck. And it was then that Gjoa understood.

She bowed her head solemnly. When she looked up again her friend and companion for the past 3 years had gone. "Farewell." She whispered into the fog and headed down the channel that would carry her through to the Pacific.

...

101 YEARS LATER

Crystal Serenity could feel her boilers heating up, hull darkening with fear induced sweat as she sailed out of the channel and straight into a thick fog bank. Her nervousness only increased as she sensed the presence of another ship. "Who's there?!" She called, sounding her horn every few minutes she traveled. As the fog got thicker she slowed her pace, lest she strike something unforeseen. Even though it was summer, ice was rampant.

Slowly the bow of another ship appeared. She was old but remarkably pristine. A pair of unusually blue eyes sat upon a chestnut oak bow, three masts with their spars stretching delicately skyward. Instead of feeling fear, Serenity felt oddly comforted. It was as if she knew this ship would cause her no harm.

"Who are you?" She asked. "That you may soothe me so?"

The other ship smiled, having to stretch her own bow up to reach the massive cruise ship's. "My ships have certainly become more advanced since my day." She murmured, pressing their noses together. Serenity reeled back at the cold shock. How could a ship be so cold and yet still live?

"I said who are you?" She asked, annoyance now creeping into her voice.

Again a warm almost motherly smile crossed the old ship's face. "There is nothing to fear from me, Crystal Serenity. I am HMS Terror, guardian of these waters. With me, thou art safe. Come, I shall show thee the way."


	63. The Good Pair

JULY 1815

"Say it."

"Nope!"

 _"Say it!"_

"Never!"

 **"Say it, Mac."**

"I TOLD YOU NEVER TO CALL ME THAT!"

"And there she is." United States giggled, dodging a well aimed strike at her foremast. For her part, Macedonian just growled, grumbled and sighed. "You're insufferable." United States opened her mouth but the Brit beat her to it. "You ask me one more time and I will _eat_ your babies!" Macedonian hissed. The American wisely shut up.

...

APRIL 1811

"Macedonian?" "Hmm?" The British frigate didn't open an eye as she dozed in the midday sun just off United States' bow. "Wanna bet something?" United States asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice. "I'm always up for a good bet, Big U. What do you have?" Macedonian asked through a yawn. "If we ever face each other in combat..."

This woke Macedonian up in an instant and she rounded on her American compatriot. "Combat? Why would I ever want to fight you?!" She cried. "Your chartroom must be full of shipworms again." United States giggled at her friend's reaction. "Well wouldn't be the first time." She replied. Macedonian rolled her eyes. As she didn't refute any further, the American took that as her key to continue.

"If we ever face each other in combat, a beaver hat and a keg of alcohol goes to the winner. Not that thin soup you Brit's call grog either! I'm talking fine all American whiskey." Macedonian looked thoughtful. "As much as I hope it never happens, I accept your challenge USS United States." She replied, offering a low bow. She was always one to be gentlemanly. United States couldn't stifle the childish squeal that escaped her.

...

OCTOBER 1812

United States and Macedonian circled each other. All warmth in the frigate's eyes was gone, replaced by intense focus and perhaps a bit of malice as well. "You'll pay for what Shannon did to Chesapeake!" United States snarled. "She shouldn't have been carrying deserters in the first place. If this petty war is what that's about then perhaps I should just go home now, away from your childish whining. Chesapeake deserved what she got!"

This sent United States over the edge and the American launched a fierce broadside, her larger cannon capable of covering a distance greater than Macedonian's guns ever could. She could fire her weapons while staying out of the Briton's own range. The battle was swift but fierce with each vessel trying to outdo the other and it was the American, with her stronger, sturdier sides and accurate gunmen ship that resulted in her victory. United States' actions at the opening of the battle had ensured she got off 70 broadsides compared to her opponents' 30. She suffered only minor damage, a few rigging lines shot away. Macedonian by contrast, lay completely dis-masted, sides covered in blood and bruises forming around the 100 cannon lodged in various places in her hull. Still though, despite her severe if not fatal injuries, she rasped "A fight well done Big U." United States turned from battle warrior to concerned friend in a heartbeat and brushed her hull against her former opponents. "Don't you dare die on me. You still owe me that whiskey." "And the beaver hat. Don't forget the beaver hat." Ah, so the limey did have a sense of humor. United States laughed. "Right, don't think its my style though." She shrugged. "Come on, I'll tow you into port. You're an American now. _USS_ Macedonian." Macedonian had no choice but to sigh and allow herself to be taken.

The two ships spent the next 2 weeks laid up next to one another as they conducted repairs. United States' damage was minor compared to her companion's and she quickly had it completed, assisting Macedonian with her masts. The American had done a splendid job tending to the former Briton's wounds, ensuring no infection had a chance to set in which could have been fatal. Once warm morning, United States felt satisfied enough with her efforts to allow herself and Macedonian a chance to rest. But first, she had something to say. Something that had been nagging her for some time. "Mac?" "Hmm?" Macedonian opened one eye to glare irritably at the nickname. _"What is it with Americans and shortening everything?"_ She thought. United States seemed immune to this and pressed her bow underneath hers. "I-I think I love you." She could feel Macedonian blush. The Briton said nothing and for a minute United States thought she had gone too far. Then she felt her friend's soft muzzle resting against the top of her head. "I love you too, United States." That was the last thing the American heard before she drifted off to sleep.

...

JULY 1815

Macedonian was working up a growing migraine as she tried to ignore United States' ramblings. Her mate was ferocious, flawless in combat. She could not ask for a better ship to serve at her side but the young American could be a downright nuisance when the cannon weren't run out. "Say it! Say it! Say it!" chanted the love of Macedonian's life and the current bane of her existence. Growling the frigate gave into temptation, rounded on her mate and replied in an alarmingly cool tone "You won the bet. Here's your whiskey." She handed her the keg. "And here's your beaver hat." She pulled out a rounded piece of cloth that she'd spent the last few months stitching together trying to imitate her mate's sense of style as best she could. She placed it on top of her head. United States looked at her reflection and gave another childish squeal. Macedonian could feel her day growing longer already. "Oooh, I love it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She squealed. "You're welcome." The Brit mumbled, still somewhat overwhelmed by the American's hyperactive nature. United States toned it down as she approached close enough to offer a kiss, one that was gladly returned. "Would you prefer it if I was quieter?" She asked. "Can you be quieter?" Macedonian asked. She was only half-serious. United States grinned. "I dunno. Wanna find out?" She purred. "I've never entered port with anyone before. I might get, distracted." Oh she was _counting on it!_ Macedonian grinned. "Shall we dear?" United States nipped her flank suggestively before speeding off to find a more private place. Macedonian followed at a more reserved pace. The American was a nuisance at the best of times but she wouldn't trade her mate for anything.

...

OCTOBER 1838

"Macedonian?"

The soft voice is what stirred the old frigate out of her slumber. She'd lost her sight completely a few days ago which meant for her the end was near. But she wearily she opened her eyes meeting the intense blue gaze of the ship she knew to be her mate. The tugs on their bond told her as much. "Was wonderin' when you'd come by?" Her old fine tuned British accent had all but disappeared, having evolved into a strong New England dialect.

United States nuzzled her and Macedonian didn't need to see to know she was crying. Despite her pain, she pressed her muzzle to her shoulder. She didn't say anything in comfort. How could she? How could she comfort a ship who was about to lose her mate, lose their precious bond? Macedonian had seen it happen. She'd borne witness to Cyane's own demise 2 years earlier, seen what it had done to Constitution. Like her and United States, Constitution and Cyane's bond had been borne out of war and capture. The two former British frigates had been a welcome addition to the US Navy at the time. Now, they were old, too old for useful service. Macedonian found she didn't mind scrapping as much as she used to think. _"Far easier than dying in battle. Almost like, falling asleep and waking up the next morning as part of the stars."_

"My dear, do not _worry about me. My spirit will watch over you until the day we are reunited."_ Macedonian blinked and found she could see again and she was seeing her mate from a different angle than before. United States was holding... was that, it was. Her own body! The newborn Ancient could see right through her form to the water below. A bit creepy but something Macedonian supposed she'd have to get used to. She moved forward, pressing her nose to her mate's. Her presence was enough to ease the pain of the backlash into something more manageable but that did not stop United States' anguish. Her beloved was gone from this world. Macedonian did not try to stem her grief. She knew it had to be released. United States let her feelings be known as she sobbed into the lifeless husk of Macedonian while the spirit of her mate stood at her side.

JUNE 1809

United States rode anchor off Boston, waiting for her sister to return from the Mediterranean. She'd heard of Chesapeake's affair and just thinking about it made her blood boil. She could only imagine what her sister must be feeling. Constitution was far more hot tempered than she was. The US flagship would no doubt be calling for retribution.

From behind her another ship approached, leaving the port as the sails of Constitution appeared on the horizon. "I see USS Constitution has returned." She remarked. "Aye. I haven't seen her in 4 years." United States replied. "You will be giving her a big welcome then?" "Heh, you're good. What's your name?" United States forgot her sister for a moment as she turned to her new companion, a frigate like her and only slightly smaller in size and armament. The American made note of the 28, 18 pound guns lining her sides. "HMS Macedonian." She replied with a small bow. United States returned it with a dip of her own. It wouldn't do to be rude. "USS United States." "So I gathered. I have to head out on patrol now but perhaps I shall see you again, United States?" "I should hope so, Mac." The Briton shot her a half-amused glare. "So am I on nickname status already?" She asked. "Sure why not?" United States was easily the most personable of the six frigates. Her sisters had their own ways about them but there was just something about meeting new people and chatting that got her going in particular. "Call me Big U." "Big U then." With a wave of her white ensign, United States returned it with a flick of her own striped flag, she watched as Macedonian sailed off, passing Constitution on her way out. She gave the American flagship passing honors which Constitution returned of course before the American pulled up beside her sister.

"Did you behave yourself while I was away Big U?" She asked. "Mm hmm." United States for all her eagerness to see her sister now had eyes for another ship. Even as she chatted with Constitution, her eyes would always move to where Macedonian was, even long after her stern had disappeared over the horizon. If Constitution noticed, she didn't say anything although United States did see that her eyes danced with amusement and something else she dare not name. Constitution was a master blackmailer. If she ever got enough on United States and Macedonian, the American would _never_ hear the end of it!

Despite this though, she looked at the horizon one last time, smiling softly. _"I hope so, Macedonian."_


	64. I Lost Him, I Lost Her

AUGUST 1914 PORTSMOUTH HARBOR

It was sweltering hot and all ship's were darkened with sweat. A few even got frothy and Victory pitied them. They weren't used to this sort of heat. She herself was feeling the the strain but it was only because she had so recently returned from the Mediterranean that she could withstand it. She blinked, keeping her eyes firmly on the harbor ahead of her. She would not, could not look back there. Those memories would remain locked away under heavy guard, never to be recalled again!

Another ship was berthed beside her. Her head was down, forced in that position by thick chains. A muzzle was tight around her nose. Even so, Victory heard her sharp growls. She had to give credit where it was due and this Yank was stubborn. She had to turn her head to look at her. She'd lost sight in her right eye years ago. _"No, don't think about that Victory. You_ _do not_ _think about that!"_ She growled to herself. The Yank made a questioning noise and Victory realized she'd been talking out loud. "None of your business." She hissed. The Yank rolled her eyes and if it wasn't for the muzzle, Victory would say she was smirking. The man o'war growled. "If I take that muzzle off can you be civilized?" She asked. The Yank appeared to debate that before giving a small dip of her prow. She agreed. Victory sighed. "Alright, lean over." She ordered. She did so and Victory flashed her fangs. The thick chains broke under her swift bite and the Yank smacked her jaws, savoring the freedom. "Thank you." She sighed. Victory grunted.

Now that she was free President shifted at her moorings, debating about what she should do. She could easily bite through her lines but she'd never get far. If Victory didn't snatch her then one of the other many British warships here would. "You're missing home." Victory's voice broke through her thoughts. "You can read me that well?" President asked. "I've seen the look before." Victory replied. "I see. I won't say I'm homesick but I do miss my sisters." President admitted. "We have another like you though." "Yes, Chesapeake poor thing. But she's always been a timid, shy thing and I hate to think of what that hungry bear Leopard is doing to her." President growled. Victory was about to reprimand her for speaking about one of her ships that way but even she had to admit that President was right. Leopard wasn't known for her gentleness and the little frigate could be quite domineering. Despite her larger size, Chesapeake had surrendered to her without so much as a fight. Victory found that quite odd, considering their previous encounter. She wasn't there to witness either battle and so had little to offer in the way of testimony but she had no doubts of Leopard's domineering, and sometimes cruel nature. It was not unheard of for one ship to press itself upon another. She didn't believe that Leopard would've done so without Chesapeake's consent. The Yank frigate was too shy to refuse an opponent. Victory had met her only once, shortly after she had been brought here. Chesapeake was a sweet thing, a bit soft spoken but kind and respectful with just a hint of Yankee stubbornness which so far President had shown to have in abundance. But when Leopard had sailed in, Chesapeake became an entirely different ship. She was immediately submissive, prostrating herself before the two warships. Victory had said nothing of it at the time but she had no doubts that Leopard was mistreating her in some sexual way. It wouldn't be the first time the frigate had taken a prisoner in as a sex slave.

Sighing, Victory turned her attention back to President who immediately averted her gaze. Victory knew at once that she was staring and exactly what she was staring at. "Yeah, not pretty is it?" She asked. The wounds around her milky eye were long since healed but the scars they left behind were unusually large. "It certainly isn't. How'd you get it?" The question sounded innocent enough so President was surprised when the large man o'war shuddered as though she'd received some kind of painful blow. "Can't, don't make me talk about it." She wheezed. President frowned. "You're hurting." She said. "In here." Her bowsprit dipped, poking Victory in the chest. She backed off. "You-you wouldn't... it was before your time." She rasped. "Don't care. You're going to talk and I'm going to listen." President moved to her side and planted herself there, throwing grappling hooks for good measure. Victory growled. "You want me to run out my cannon?" "You have enough room for that?" "Cheeky lass." Victory mused. President laughed. "Constitution says I'm an expert at pushing her buttons. I didn't know ships had buttons though." President frowned. "Do we?" Victory rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what President was up to and she hated that it was working. "Alright, if I talk will you stop being so annoying?" She asked. "Eh, depends on what you think is annoying." "Good enough." Victory sighed. "As I recall, you were a youngster at the time. But all in all it wasn't too long ago." She began. She felt President settling in at her side.

"Before I continue, may I ask if you know what a joining is?" "Yes. I'm one of the few in my fleet that does. But I suppose that's because I was training to be a healer at the time of my capture." President replied. Victory looked at her expectantly and so she continued. "A joining is where a ship merges her soul with another's, be it her soul sister or another of great importance. It can be and has been used as a form of sex or part of a sexual joining. The resulting, charge, is certainly more than enough to..." "Yes, yes, I know that. What else is it used for?" Victory was quite eager to avoid that subject. She'd already had her education in Sex Ed thank you! President chuckled, ignoring Victory's glare. "A joining can also be used for medicinal purposes which is where I had first heard about it. But it isn't really a method I would recommend because it doesn't make the injuries go away, it merely transfers the injuries from one partner to the other..." Her voice became unusually soft as she began to understand. "You-you-" "Tried and failed." Victory sighed. She really had no desire to recall those memories, to even picture His face but a small part of her admitted that President was right. She could not avoid forever. She would have to talk. She closed her eyes.

 _"I've got you now Bucentaure!"_

 _"We've broken through, my boys! Show 'em our cannon Victory!"_

 _"With pleasure sir!" Hot cannonfire rained down on Bucentaure and Redoubtable._

 _"Sir, get below. We have to tend that wound."_

 _"Don't waste your time on me, they got my spine. Shot through."_

 _"Kiss me Hardy."_

 _"No, NO!"_

Victory forced herself out of the memory, shuddering as she did so. She found President looking at her, a wisdom in her eyes she had never seen before. "Stop fighting." She ordered softly. "And let it flow." Victory turned away and when she blinked she found herself back in her memories. Off to her right she could see Royal Sovereign heading her own column and without looking Victory knew Temeriere was right behind her. Sovereign glared at Victory's signal flags spelling out the sentence "ENGLAND EXPECTS THAT EVERY MAN AND SHIP WILL DO THEIR DUTY." "Would you stop that! We know what to do!" She snarled and Victory laughed. It got her aroused to fight at least and Victory was content with that. In front of her Redoubtable and Bucentaure rained down fierce fire and the former ship moved up closer to her flagship, preventing Victory from breaking through. "Blast." She swore as she took the two ships cannonfire at point blank range. Farther down the line, Royal Sovereign wasn't having the same issues. She forced her way through, taking on Santa Ana. Victory had to admire her courage. Santa Ana was not a ship to be messed with. She was the largest man o'war in the world. But Royal Sovereign took advantage of her position off the other ship's stern and poured a devastating broadside into her that left her as a shattered hulk.

Behind Victory Temeriere was racing up to engage Trinadad. At least she would keep the massive man o'war off her stern. Now, having broken through the line and raked Bucentaure with a devastating broadside through her stern, she turned her attention to Redoubtable. "It's just you and me now frog." She hissed. "Let the best ship win!" And the two proceeded to clash in a series of cannonfire. Their teeth were also used and Victory took full advantage of her larger fangs, sinking them into Redoutable's foremast. She wrenched her head to the side, hearing a satisfying crack as the mast broke into splinters. She backed off as it came down and as she closed in again but stumbled back as pain shot through her left shoulder. Had she pulled something? While not too old to be an invalid she certainly wasn't a young ship to be in this sort of battle. The pain went away almost immediately as though it had been stifled and Victory knew immediately what had happened. "Sir, are you alright?" "They got me at last, Victory. My backbone, shot." Victory's eyes widened and she turned to Redoubtable who merely raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter Victory?" She asked. "Getting slow and feeble in your old age?" "I don't recall you being that young yourself." Victory replied and lunged. The two fought in a vicious close quarters battle. No guns, just teeth and rigging. Near the end of it, pain seized Victory's heart and her grip on Redoubtable tightened. She was vaguely aware of the French ship's struggles but her attention wasn't on her anymore. _"Stay with me sir."_ She pulled on the bond, willing her soul to do her bidding. Her hull shuddered as deck planks spontaneously broke apart and blood began to pour from the wounds along her shoulder and side. Her keel groaned and snapped eliciting a soft cry from the warship. Blood ran from her nose and right eye and still Victory maintained her solid grip on Redoubtable, completely focused on what she was doing. It took the combined efforts of Temeriere and a surrendered Trinadad to free Redoubtable leaving the French ship gasping for air. Royal Sovereign raced over. "Victory, stop! You're killing yourself, stop!" She cried. An agonizing wail sounded from the man o'war. It was painful to hear and it twisted the hearts of all those who heard it. Victory silenced, leaning heavily on Royal Sovereign. The man o'war was a mess with her entire left side covered in blotches and bruises. Blood still leaked from her right eye and when she opened it it was milky. Her gaze was hollow, no flicker of life existed in either eye. "All for nothing." She rasped. "This war. My keel, my eye it was all for nothing." Her gaze landed on Redoubtable and the French ship shivered at the hatred in those blue eyes. "Because of you, you-you MURDERER!" She screeched and lunged. She was clumsy with her snapped keel but her attack was aimed square and Redoubtable felt her blows, trying to retreat from the furious man o'war. "MURDERER! YOU MURDERER! YOU KILLED HIM! I'LL KILL YOU!" She snarled. "MURDERER!" Her chant continued and Redoubtable was becoming increasingly bloodied by the assault. Victory was beyond reason and the best thing she could do was stay silent. She was beginning to understand what had set Victory off like this. A part of her was pleased that one of her marksman had delivered such a blow but a majority of her was saddened at Victory's loss. To lose one's Admiral was a terrible thing, but to lose your Admiral and your bonded was beyond cruel and Redoubtable hated herself for causing such pain to her British equal. Royal Sovereign had to pull Victory off the French flagship who was left leaning heavily on Neptune. Victory had collapsed against her fleetmate, reduced to a sobbing bloody mess. "I lost him. I lost him." She cried over and over again.

Victory didn't realize she had moved out of her berth until she blinked and found herself staring out to sea. President hadn't moved from her position beside her, still tied off. "You know you aren't going to get a better opportunity to escape than just now." She said. "Aye, but what kind of ship would I be if I put my own interests before that of a hurting friend's?" President replied. For the first time in 6 years, Victory looked down at another ship and smiled. "President, thank you." She said. The younger ship nuzzled her and allowed Victory to guide her back into her berth.

A year passed and the two became quite good friends but Victory always knew, somewhere deep down, that it wouldn't last for long. President longed for home and it went beyond that. She refused to accept that she was a British warship. A French warship would've accepted their fate by now and joined the British navy but that was mainly because the two nations were at war so often that capture became a part of life. It was not unusual for a warship to see multiple owners in their lifetime. But President was not European. She was Yank-no American born and bred. She had not a trace of Europe in her. Victory had hoped that the ancestry of America would deem their warships just as willing to adapt to new navies but she was wrong. And a part of her was pleased that she was. America had truly broken the status quo and she prayed her English cousins would continue to prosper. They had earned the right.

"Victory, I want you to promise me something." Victory started by the unnaturally serious tone in President's voice. "Yes President?" She asked. "Promise me you will not interfere in what happens next." Victory tilted her head to one side. "And what pray tell, are you about to do President?" She asked. She saw one of the frigate's carronade's run out and tensed for a fight. This Yank had the gall to fight her? A fully fledged man o'war. Why, just her lower row of guns was enough to outmatch her! But then her anger turned to horror when she saw the carronade being turned around and pointed towards its ships own mainmast. President smiled. "I'm going home Victory." She said and fired. Not once but several times and despite her intense desire to turn away, Victory found herself frozen in place. Forced to watch her friend kill herself. When the smoke cleared, President was lying there, blood covering everything including Victory's hull where it had splattered. "Kiss me Victory." Victory could just barely make out the words and not trusting her voice, she simply nodded and moved forward. And did what she never could have at Trafalgar, she kissed the dying warship. "I'm to lose you now?" She rasped. The reply was soft but just loud enough for Victory's keen ears to hear. "Never." When the man o'war pulled back she found President staring at her and her eyes were glassed over. Like she did at Trafalgar, Victory tipped her head back and gave a long agonized wail.


	65. Flagships of the US Navy

**Black Pearl "The Tactician" (1775-1804)** Considering the country's stance on piracy it seems ironic that its first flagship _was_ a pirate. But at the time, there were few ships that could equal her qualifications for the job. Volunteering for the service as early as 1770, Black Pearl was the shining star of the country's fledgling navy. She had an eye for naval tactics and a lifetime spent outwitting the British made her a formidable foe. Recognizing the weaker position of the navy against England's, she came up with the idea of the modern task force with the smaller more maneuverable ships on the outskirts protecting the fewer numbered ships of the line (of which America would have only one by 1780 and I'll get to her in a second). At Yorktown, these and other tactics (now obsolete) would be the key to winning out over the British. Following the war and the formal declaration of sovereignty, Pearl was officially made the flagship of a new nation. She was eventually killed during the failed rescue attempt of USS Philadelphia. Her contribution to the US Navy has not been forgotten however. The tight knit formation of ships that was seen during WW2 (and would be seen again in the event of another world war) is refereed to by ships as the Pearl Formation. And the ability to think quickly and outside the box for the sake of your troops is known as the Pearl Effect.  
Deputy: Silent Mary

 **Silent Mary "The Forgotten Flagship" (1804-1814)** Even more ironic than America's first flagship was the country's second. Born a Spaniard, Silent Mary was bested by a younger Black Pearl in the Bermuda Triangle where she emerged years later. She was eventually discovered by a passing Royal Navy ship and commissioned into His Majesties service. Her commissioning in 1760 delayed that of HMS Victory for 15 years, something the man o'war would not forget. When she rose to flagship, Silent Mary was degraded throughout the Royal Navy something that pushed her to action later on. Though a poor English speaker, Mary learned quickly enough and soon discovered many of the awful truths the RN tried desperately to hide. Corruption wasn't just in the Royal Navy, it _was_ the Royal Navy. When the American Revolution rolled around, Mary saw her chance to escape and worked with the Americans as a spy. But she quickly proved to be more than just a simple spy for the Americans. Mary not only provided excellent, spot on intel but she did it in a way that would not arouse suspicious within the RN and make them suspect there was a spy. She gave the Americans battle plans alongside her intelligence, outlining what they needed to do. They could never stop the RN without the French, but they could delay them and that is exactly what Mary had them do. And it didn't just end with the navy. Mary's intel was what allowed George Washington to cross the Delaware and take Trenton and later Princeton. It also proved to be pivotal in the Battles of Flamborough Head and Yorktown where Mary finally unveiled her true colors with a crippling cannon shot to the British flagship. She was named Black Pearl's deputy immediately after the US became an independent state. Following her flagship's death, Mary was in command during the War of 1812. She was badly wounded by three British warships early on in the conflict and just barely made it to the capital. Having recovered from her injuries she was just getting ready to sail when the British announced their presence with fire! Determined not to see the nation's capital fall into enemy hands, Mary lead a valiant charge against the forces at sea and on shore. Halfway through the battle she was mortally wounded by a cannonshot to her mainmast which severed her main artery. Even so, she battled on for another 50 minutes, getting so far as to lunge at the flagship before her heart, with no more blood to pump, stopped working and she fell just short of the final blow. Sadly, her actions that day and throughout her service have been largely forgotten. It wasn't until WW2 that mentions of her began to resurface, largely on the Axis side. The Japanese had stumbled on some of the few records that still existed and pieced them together. She became an admired and respected figure. When the Americans dug in at Iwo Jima and Okinawa, the Japanese whispered to themselves "The Silent Mary has returned." Much is still being relearned about America's second flagship with the two vessels who still remember her, HMS Victory and USS Constitution, sharing what they can remember. Even so, so little is known about her that she has been dubbed as "America's Forgotten Flagship".  
Deputy: Constitution

 **Constitution "The Ship of State" (1814-1871)** Though now known not to be America's second flagship, she is still seen as the most respected ship in American history. Her exploits during the War of 1812 have assured her a place in history's Hall of Fame. After the war, Constitution was tasked with the monumental charge of rebuilding her fledgling nation. Throughout the 1820s and 30s she acted as a rare source of stability in a country wrought with an increasing number of changes and divides. But perhaps she is best known, to the ships anyways, for her actions in the Civil War. While the fleet was being cleaved in two with ships deserting left and right and rumors of spies and corruption. Ships didn't know who to trust and any lesser fleet would've fallen apart entirely if not for Constitution. Like Lincoln, she believed firmly in the idea of the one Union. _E Plerbus Unum_ became her rallying cry. Losing her first two deputies in the first 2 years of the conflict, Constitution was hard pressed to find ground against the south. She lost her healer and sister as well, forcing her to take on both roles which proved to be unpopular with some ships. Constitution never showed how much those losses tore at her until years later when, in 1872, citing severe "combat fatigue" (PTSD) she stepped down from command. She remained the fleet's healer until the turn of the century when Solace came along.  
Deputies: Macedonian (d.1834), Merrimack (captured, 1860), Monitor (d. 1862), America (lead until 1917)

 **America "The Queen of the Cup" (1871-1917)** It is fitting in many ways for Constitution's last deputy to be named America. Born in 1851, this little sloop was never an ordinary ship. Her first year of civilian service is remarkable and still remembered to this day. Eventually finding her way to the navy, she served well in the Civil War, going so far as to sink a Confederate ship during the blockade. After the war, it only made sense that she would be chosen to be the next flagship. She and Constitution shared a unique bond, even after the latter's resignation. She relied heavily on the frigate's support, so much so that in the first 2 decades of her leadership, she did not have a deputy of her own. America's first true test came in 1898 with the outbreak of the Spanish American war. It proved to be of little challenge as the US Navy under her command annihilated what was left of the once great empire. Known for her strict interpretation of the rules and her sharp tongue against those who disobeyed them, she lead an orderly fleet and was often annoyed with the rather lax by contrast behavior of her deputy, Arizona. Still, she remained fond of her "adoptive daughter" as she called the battleship and handed over the reigns of command when America entered WW1 having no desire to take part in "another pointless conflict".  
Deputies: Maine (d.1898), Olympia (ret. 1915), Arizona (d.1941)

 **Arizona "The Friendly Flagship" (1917-1941)** Arizona is perhaps best known for her relationship with White Star liner and later RN flagship RMS/HMT Olympic. Meeting just before the outbreak of WW1 when Arizona was still being built, the two formed an easy friendship that developed into a strong sisterly bond. In the 1920s it was Arizona who was responsible for a lot of the aid that went into England's bank accounts and in the 1930s it was Olympic who reciprocated with whatever she had left to help the struggling American Navy. Though Olympic passed away in 1936, Arizona continued her fallen sister's legacy. She became one of the biggest collectors of White Star memorabilia. A collection that, though worth billions today, was lost along with its owner on December 7, 1941.  
Deputy: Pennsylvania

 **Pennsylvania "The Lonely Warrioress" (1941-1946)** At first thought to be a poor choice for command, America's shortest lived flagship proved her worth time and again during the Second World War. She was responsible for many of the victories the US Navy gained, including the pivotal one at Midway. Recognizing early on that the Japanese could not hold out against a long war of attrition, nor would American forces be so inclined to permit such a thing she came up with the idea of island hopping, choosing the least defended places to attack while at the same time, surrounding and cutting off the more heavily em-placed command centers, starving them out. Pennsylvania was plagued with dissension within her own ranks for most of her reign as many felt that the sister of their former flagship would be too clouded with emotion to make proper command decisions. And for the first couple years, Pennsylvania proved that thinking wrong. Until the near end of the war in 1945, when her latest deputy Indianapolis was sunk. All the sadness and rage the battleship had been holding in was finally released and she made the order to drop not one (as was originally planned) but _two_ atomic bombs on key Japanese cities. It was a decision that Pennsylvania, even when her head cleared, never regretted and to her dying breath she declared she would do it again if she had to. And maybe she was right. Those that flew those missions say the same thing. What most people forget is that this was not just war, this was a bloodbath mainly of Japanese forces and a land invasion would've resulted in a genocide. So despite Pennsylvania's lapse of judgement, maybe she made the right call after all...  
Deputies: Northampton (d.1942), Chicago (d.1943), Indianapolis (d.1945), Missouri (currently leads)

 **Missouri "The Proud Peacemaker" (1946-Present)** At the end of the Second World War, no warship was more recognized and more famous than USS Missouri. The site of surrender, she became the center of worldwide media attention. Missouri came too late in the war to see America's early victories nor see Pennsylvania's proud early reign and instead bore witness to the frail old flagship she became. Missouri remains fiercely protective of Pennsylvania to this day and does not allow her memories of her flagship to be tainted. After the war, Missouri became the only battleship in active service anywhere in the world, a fact that disturbed her greatly. She never minded the attention and was actually considered to be a bit of a ham, loving on her adoring fans. What she did mind, was how that attention affected other battleships and her sisters in particular. Elder Iowa always remained jealous of her status even though the two remain close to this day. Missouri tried to get people to understand what they were doing but as they wouldn't listen to her words, perhaps they would listen to her actions. Her grounding became her statement to the world. "I'm not infallible, leave me alone!" It wasn't taken quite that way but it seemed to do the trick for months later, all four Iowa-class battleships would be back in service. Korea was the first and last time the four would see each other at one time despite them all having seen each other at one point or another. Of her four sisters, Missouri seemed to be the closest to New Jersey who would become the fleet's current healer. After Korea, all four were mothballed until the demands of the Cold War see they serve again. The 1980s showed that Missouri had a bit of an insecure side as she was nervous before traveling to Sydney for the RAN celebrations. Missouri has had three deputies so far but by far the best she's had was Enterprise. Chosen just days after she put to sea for the first time, USS Enterprise CVN-65 became the battleship's closest friend and confidant. The carrier had to learn how to command quickly since with Missouri mothballed, she was acting flagship. Though unsure and insecure at first, Enterprise swiftly learned what she had to do and proved her metal during Vietnam and Lebanon. When she retired in 2012 Missouri almost didn't choose another deputy but she did eventually at Enterprise's request.  
Deputies: Kidd (ret. 1964) Enterprise (ret. 2012, d.2017) Virginia (first submarine in position of command. Leads the Atlantic Fleet)


	66. Reborn Prologue

"It's here somewhere, I know it is!" said one man as he climbed across the drying timbers of the over 470 year old ship.

"You said that when we first raised this wreck." grumbled his friend. "And that was 24 years ago!"

"But I saw it. I remember seeing it. Right in front of me. A big crystal ball like thing."

Ducking under a large piece of oaken he saw it. Blending in perfectly with the hull, it's glistening blue had faded to a dull green but it was there, glinting under the rays of his flashlight. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he snapped an picture.

"What are you doing?" His friend asked.

"I've got a friend who works at P&O. There's only one ship that can tell me what this is." He replied.

His friend nodded and the man started climbing back down when his hand slipped. He fell a few feet before finding his footing once more but he'd gone white as sheet.

"What's wrong?" His friend asked.

"For a moment, I swear...I felt... A pulse." He replied.

"Bah! This ship's been dead for over 400 years. Not even a submarine could survive that long underwater."

"I suppose you're right." He conceded but he was sure of one thing, the Mary Rose still had at least one secret within her old frames.


	67. Reborn Chapter 1

A long stay in port was a rare commodity for a cruise ship. They were called "cruise" ships for a reason. They made frequent calls but rarely lingered, instead just taking leisurely sails within sight of some exotic coast somewhere to give their snobby passengers a lovely view. So when a long stay did occur, it was usually relished. Not so in Britannia's case. P&O's newest flagship had been stuck in Liverpool for a week due to an illness. She was currently trying to get some much needed rest after throwing up most of the previous night and finding her temperature had soared to 103 this morning. Her head hurt, her hull ached and she just wanted some peace and quiet. Something impossible to come by in a port like this.

She heard the sounds of someone racing rapidly towards her and her nose said he was the Vice President of Operations. Briefly, she entertained the idea of faking sleep. Surely the VP was here to speak with her captain. But it wouldn't do for her to be disrespectful. Military bearings were something that would always come naturally to Britannia. So, with a heavy sigh and a bit of a cough, she slowly straightened up.

"Mister Vice President." She greeted, managing to cover her cough in her hull.

"Britannia, I am so sorry to disturb you." He began, wiping his face clean of sweat.

"Just get on with it, sir." She sighed. Looking back on it, she would be appalled by her lack of manners but her sickness was making her tongue sharp and temper short.

"This just came in from the Mary Rose Museum. They said you could identify it." He held up his phone.

She pushed a rag to her mouth as she coughed again, spitting some phlegm into it. Glaring, she folded it away and leaned forward to examine the photograph. She tilted her head to the side, looking with one eye, then the other and suddenly both widened. Stunned, she settled back in her berth, eyes fixed to the horizon. Not a word came from her.

"Britannia?" The VP questioned. "What's wrong? Do you know what that thing is?"

"I do." She spoke slowly as she weighed her words. "It's called a Current Manipulator. It was, a bit of a fad in the 16th century or so I believed. I've never seen one intact before."

"What does it do?" He asked.

She was about to answer when she paled. "Fuck!" She swore and snatched a bucket off the dock. The VP turned away as she retched.

Muttering several choice curses, Britannia pushed the bucket away. "Sorry you had to see that." She said.

He waved her off. "This Current Manipulator," He prompted. "What does it do?"

"Ah yes, sorry. It's a sort of life support. It acts as a makeshift electrolysis. Oxygen is created and flows into the ship's bloodstream via a connecting tube that has been surgically implanted into the main artery beforehand. This way even when the ship has stopped breathing, fresh oxygen can be continually supplied around the body as long as the heart keeps pumping."

"How long does it last?" He asked.

"It's powered by the current, hence its name. As long as it has moving water flowing over it, it can theoretically last indefinitely... Oh bloody hell!" Back into the bucket she went.

When through she slammed her head on the dock. "I'm getting too old for this." She grumbled.

"You said the Manipulator requires moving water?" He asked.

"Correct."

"Mary just completed stage three of her PEG. She's a dry ship now."

"How long has the Manipulator not had moving water?" Britannia asked, rising again.

"Hang on. I'll ask." He fired off a quick text and got an immediate response. "3 hours." He relayed. "Does the Manipulator have a backup system. Like a reserve battery?"

"Not that I know of. It wasn't that advanced. But ships can survive without oxygen for up to 4 hours. So if I were you, I'd get that oxygen pump or whatever it is that you do to pump water out of her lungs before it's too late!" She growled.


	68. US Navy Chain of Command-Operational

Central Command  
 **Supreme Flagship-US Naval Forces:** USS Missouri (BB-63)  
 **Supreme Deputy-US Naval Forces:** USS Virginia (SSN-774)

*Note: Fleet Central Command is determined by senority. Should both Missouri and Virginia be KIA or otherwise determined unfit for duty, command would fall to the commander of the US Atlantic Fleet in this case as Constitution holds more seniority compared to COMPACFLT. The opposite can also occur*

Fleet Central Command-Atlantic (6th, 5th Fleets)  
 **Flagship US Atlantic Fleet (COMLANTFLT):** USS Constitution  
 **Flagship US Carrier Fleet (COMCARLANT):** USS Dwight D. Eisenhower (CVN-69)  
 **Flagship US Battleship Fleet (COMBATLANT):** USS North Carolina (BB-55)  
 **Flagship US Cruiser Fleet (COMCRUISLANT):** USS Leyte Gulf (CG-55)  
 **Flagship US Destroyer Fleet (COMDESLANT):** USS Arleigh Burke (DDG-51) *Note: Arleigh Burke is also fleet healer. Double duty is unique to US Navy*  
 **Flagship US Submarine Fleet (COMSUBLANT) (includes tenders):** USS Florida (SSGN-728)  
 **Flagship US Littoral Fleet (COMLITLANT) (includes all amphibious vessels):** USS Wasp (LHD-1)

Fleet Central Command-Pacific (3rd, 4th, 7th fleets)  
 **Flagship US Pacific Fleet (COMPACFLT):** USS Missouri (BB-63) *Note: Missouri is also supreme flagship*  
 **Flagship US Carrier Fleet (COMCARPAC):** USS Nimitz (CVN-68)  
 **Flagship US Battleship Fleet (COMBATPAC):** USS Iowa (BB-61)  
 **Flagship US Cruiser Fleet (COMCRUISPAC):** USS Bunker Hill (CC-52)  
 **Flagship US Destroyer Fleet (COMDESPAC):** USS Barry (DDG-52)  
 **Flagship US Submarine Fleet (COMSUBPAC) (includes tenders):** USS Greeneville (SSN-772)  
 **Flagship US Littoral Fleet (COMLITPAC) (includes all amphibious vessels):** USS New Orleans (LPD-18)

*Note: The following is listed in order of seniority rather than operational command area*

Fleet Command-US 7th Fleet  
 **Flagship US 7th Fleet:** USS Ronald Reagan (CVN-76)  
 **Flagship Carrier Division-US 7th Fleet:** USS Ronald Reagan (CVN-76)  
 **Flagship Cruiser Division-US 7th Fleet:** USS Antietam (CG-54)  
 **Flagship Destroyer Division-US 7th Fleet:** USS Curtis Wilbur (DDG-54)  
 **Flagship Submarine Division-US 7th Fleet:** USS Chicago (SSN-721)  
 **Flagship Littoral Division-US 7th Fleet:** USS Bonhomme Richard (LHD-6)

Fleet Command-US 6th Fleet  
 **Flagship US 6th Fleet:** USS Mount Whitney (LCC-20)  
 **Flagship Carrier Division-US 6th Fleet:** USS United States (Harry S. Truman) (CVN-75)  
 **Flagship Battleship Division-US 6th Fleet:** USS Wisconsin (BB-64)  
 **Flagship Cruiser Division-US 6th Fleet:** USS San Jacinto (CG-56)  
 **Flagship Destroyer Division-US 6th Fleet:** USS Carney (DDG-64)  
 **Flagship Submarine Division-US 6th Fleet:** USS Providence (SSN-719)  
 **Flagship Littoral Division-US 6th Fleet:** USS San Antonio (LPD-17)

Fleet Command-US 3rd Fleet  
 **Flagship US 3rd Fleet:** USS Nimitz (CVN-68) *Note: Nimitz also Flagship US Carrier Forces Pacific (COMCARPAC)*  
 **Flagship Carrier Division-US 3rd Fleet:** USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70)  
 **Flagship Battleship Division-US 3rd Fleet:** USS Missouri (BB-63) *Note: Missouri also US supreme flagship and Commander US Forces Pacific (COMPACFLT)  
 **Flagship Cruiser Division-US 3rd Fleet:** USS Mobile Bay (CC-53)  
 **Flagship Destroyer Division-US 3rd Fleet:** USS John Paul Jones (DDG-53)  
 **Flagship Submarine Division-US 3rd Fleet:** USS Bremerton (SSN-698)  
 **Flagship Littoral Division-US 3rd Fleet:** USS San Diego (LPD-22)

Fleet Command-US 5th Fleet  
 **Flagship US 5th Fleet:** USS Normandy (CG-60)  
 **Flagship Carrier Division-US 5th Fleet:** USS George HW Bush (CVN-77)  
 **Flagship Cruiser Division-US 5th Fleet:** USS Normandy (CG-60) *Note: Normandy is also Flagship US 5th Fleet*  
 **Flagship Destroyer Division-US 5th Fleet:** USS Stout (DDG-55)  
 **Flagship Submarine Division-US 5th Fleet:** USS San Juan (SSN-751)  
 **Flagship Littoral Division-US 5th Fleet:** USS Kearsarge (LHD-3)

Fleet Command-US 4th Fleet  
 **Flagship US 4th Fleet:** USS George (SSGN-729)  
 **Flagship Cruiser Division-US 4th Fleet:** USS Philippine Sea (CG-58)  
 **Flagship Destroyer Division-US 4th Fleet:** USS The Sullivans (DDG-68)  
 **Flagship Submarine Division-US 4th Fleet:** USS Alaska (SSBN-732)  
 **Flagship Littoral Division-US 4th Fleet:** USS New York (LPD-21)

*Individual commands are on a seniority system based on the ship's first commissioning date. So if the ship has been decommissioned she still retains her seniority. This is unique compared to other fleets such as the Royal Navy that operate on a seniority system based on the ship's most recent commissioning date. Thus, if she's decommissioned for any reason, she loses her seniority placing*


	69. Aquitania's Miracle

Aquitania made her early morning rounds of the Cunard docks in Southampton. With Mauretania away on a trip to New York, the job was left to her. The old Saxonia was at her berth resting after a long voyage from Halifax. The fleet deputy winced at the sound of her harsh breaths. Her lung condition had gotten worse and she feared the old liner wouldn't last the month. Caronia was curled up next to her. With her sister out on cruise from Liverpool she found a snuggling buddy in the elder. Aquitania smiled at the cute sight before continuing on.

Her running mate and the third member of the grand trio, Berengaria, was also in her berth which wasn't uncommon. When she wasn't on a transatlantic voyage, she would enter her berth and stay there! "Good morning." Aquitania greeted. The larger ship was so still and quiet one might think she was asleep but 4 years of service together had taught Aquitania the intricacies of her subtle body language. She knew she was awake. Berengaria, true to her nature, offered a slight nod in reply without turning to face her deputy. Most ships would be disturbed by this display of coldness but Berengaria was a ship with a troubled past. Her closed off nature stemmed from her time in Germany. She was born and launched a defect ship with a slightly deformed mouth and nose. She had issues with her balance, constantly leaning to port when she sailed moving with more of a staggering limp than the easy grace her sisters displayed. Quickly recognizing the symptoms of Down syndrome, the Germans ruthlessly attempted to hide the flaws in their flagship. She was trained to present only the starboard side of her face to passengers. She was never allowed to leave her berth when not voyaging. And nor was she allowed to make conversation with any human or ship. Berengaria had never spoken a word in her life though sometimes Aquitania would hear her make vocal sounds. The fleet deputy had worked with her more closely than any other ship currently, including her youngest sister, White Star's Majestic. And as a result, Aquitania could sense a growing trust from the younger ship. She was honored to have it as Berengaria was not a ship who trusted easily and given her past, Aquitania was not surprised. But she also sensed that her fleet mate was not one who wanted pity and so she kept her sympathy to herself.

She moved easily alongside, hull offering a gentle brush. With her starboard side facing the shore, Aquitania was facing Berengaria's port side, putting her in full view of the other ship's deformed nose and mouth. The younger watched her out of the corner of her beady eye, searching as always for any indication of offense. It was no secret she was ashamed of her flaws, another thing the Germans had beat into her young frame. And it was something that Aquitania had spent the last 4 years trying to undo. They had no right to treat a ship like that! Despite her flaws, Berengaria had proven herself to be quite capable on the Atlantic run. She was a quick study, displaying an intelligence that the Germans could never see under her flawed exterior. She was perfect on the inside and to Aquitania, that's all that ever mattered! She gave her a warm smile that seemed to satisfy Berengaria as she looked away again. Aquitania licked the side of her bridge, feeling Berengaria shift her weight more towards her. After a few minutes a soft vibration was felt followed by a low hum. It took Aquitania a few seconds to recognize it as a purr. Berengaria was purring! "Well," Aquitania began, surprised. "You're being vocal this morning." Berengaria's purring paused. "That's a good thing dearie." Aquitania assured her with another lick and the purring started up again. "It means your improving." She sighed. "I'll never understand why the Germans treated you so badly. No one should force a ship to act a certain way just because she looks a little different. Far as I can tell, you're a good ship who does a good job and who gives a rat's scrawny ass what you look like?! Cause I sure as hell don't!" Another sound was heard, this one more of a stuttered hum. A giggle. Aquitania looked back to see Berengaria was grinning, her tongue dangling through her deformed lips. The occasional snort slipping through. Aquitania found she had to chuckle as well.

When Majestic returned from her trip that afternoon she found the two together. Aquitania was taking a nap with Berengaria still awake though relaxing in the midday sun. The deputy woke at her approach though. "Ah, Majestic. Back at last I see." She yawned. "Indeed." Majestic smiled as she moved in between the pair to nuzzle her sister. She delighted at seeing Berengaria's eyes light up when she saw her. "She behaving?" Majestic asked, nodding to Aquitania. Berengaria looked at the older liner before shaking her head resolutely, no. She smirked and Majestic laughed at hearing the deputy's indignant squawk. "Aw, that's no fair you two!" She pouted. "Ah, you know we love you Aquitania." Majestic giggled. "Well, I need to go and offload my passengers before they get too impatient." "Watch where you go about, I saw Baltic rigging some candy traps earlier." Aquitania warned. "I'll keep my eyes open." Majestic promised and started to move away.

Berengaria watched her sister go reluctantly. She wanted to try something she'd never tried before. She'd spent her whole life listening to other ships speak, first in German and now in English though it took her a while before she understood the basics of the language. She didn't understand half of what Aquitania said most of the time but what she'd said this morning rang with perfect clarity. Yes, the Germans had been mean to her. She hadn't even known what that was, having never known kindness before to compare. But since coming to Britain, she began to understand. In Germany, she was put down, ridiculed for looking slightly different than the other ships. And she always tried her best to do what they asked. To hide her defects. But Aquitania and the other ships of Cunard never saw it that way. They were the first ships besides her sister to see beyond her physical traits. Aquitania in particular. She never judged and was always kind to her. Berengaria was considering making her an honorary sister. Could that be done? She didn't know. But she liked the deputy enough to want it. Berengaria watched her sister turn away, then looked at Aquitania. She heard the Kaiser's voice in her head. That voice had been the source of all her doubts and insecurities over the years. _"You must never show them who you are, Imperator. Let them only see what they want to see. Not this, embarrassment." "My name is Berengaria and you are wrong! I am not an embarrassment, I am special!"_ She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to face her sister.

"Macjesctic." Aquitania blinked. Did she hear what she thought she heard? She looked at Berengaria but the other ship had her eyes fixed on her sister. Ahead, Majestic paused having also heard her name. At first she thought it was Aquitania calling her but if that was the case then the deputy needed to have her systems checked for that was certainly not her voice! There was only one other ship it could be. Slowly, as though she didn't dare believe it, Majestic came back around to her sister. "Berengaria?" She met her sister's gaze. Berengaria tilted her head to the right like she did when she was thinking hard. Her tongue poked out between her teeth, then she straightened and said, much clearer this time "Majesctic, my sisster." Aquitania was shocked and Majestic stunned into silence. She had never heard Berengaria speak before. But now, for the first time, she was hearing her sister's voice! She moved forward slowly. "Berengaria, you-you can speak!" She cried. Berengaria frowned, a bit bothered by her sister's loud tone but she tried again anyways spurred on by her rush of self esteem. "Majestic, I-I love you." Aquitania was moved to tears by this and Majestic even more so! She embraced Berengaria, clinging to her sister with her tears soaking both their hulls. "I love you too, Berengaria." She whispered. "I love you too!" Aquitania turned to leave and give the pair their privacy but Berengaria's rigging caught her and pulled her in the embrace. "Aquatana, thank ya." Aquitania smiled, brushing her cheek against hers. "You're always welcome, Berengaria."


	70. Mary's Farewell, Aquitania's Song

_Southampton, February 1950_

Mary looked out at the city through the cold drizzle. The typical south England weather matched her gloomy mood. Oh she herself was fine. She was still a ship in her prime after all. It was her elder that was on her mind now. Specifically, the ship docked next to her. Aquitania had been berth bound for almost 3 months. The old ship was suffering from a host of ailments and the shattered British economy wasn't helping. Cunard couldn't afford decent fuel for its ships and while Mary, though it was hard, was young and could cope. Aquitania, who was not in the best of health as it was, suffered greatly. Several times Mary was called in to tow her older fleetmate into Southampton because Aquitania, her boiler tubes clogged with the sludge of this dog shit fuel, couldn't make any speed. After the last attempt, Cunard had enough and pulled her from the active roster so she could receive proper medical treatment. But that was looking more and more like it was too little, too late. Aquitania, despite having the best doctors and nurses Cunard could find in this war ravaged country, just simply refused to get better! Oh, it was not like she wanted to be sick but the combination of her age and bad materials had resulted in a bug that wouldn't go away.

Mary looked at her now. She was curled up in her berth, facing the city like Mary was. Tarps covered her deck to keep the rain off and various scarves, gifts from well wishing passengers, adorned her neck. Despite all this, she was shivering. Mary leaned over, gently brushing her hull against hers. Aquitania leaned into her, allowing the larger younger ship to cradle her. Mary nuzzled her top deck, being extra gentle as she felt the old steel bend under her nose. It was so corroded in some places, people could stick their fingers through them. Her aunt was literally rotting away! Mary pulled back to look into her eyes. They were partially clouded. "Can you see?" She asked and Aquitania shook her head. "No." She rasped. "Not more than a blur." Mary whined. So it was too late then, the rot had set in. Aquitania leaned into her. "Mary." She asked. "No, no I won't!" The younger liner backed away. Aquitania looked at her, eyes gentle, her gaze sympathetic. "Mary." She asked again.

"No." Mary looked down with a whimper but she began to sing anyways.

 _Now I've heard there was a secret chord_

 _That David played and it pleased the Lord_

 _But you don't really care for music do ya?_

 _It goes like this, the fourth the fifth._

 _The minor fall and the major lift._

 _The baffled king composing hallelujah!_

 _Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah._

Aquitania faced her, gently lifting her head so their gazes met.

 **Your faith is strong but you needed proof**

 **You saw her bathing on the roof**

 **A beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya.**

 **She tied you to her kitchen chair!**

 **She broke your throne and cut your hair!**

 **And from your lips, she drew a hallelujah!**

 **Hallelujah!**

 _Hallelujah!_

 **Hallelujah!**

 _Hallelujah!_

 **Hallelujah!**

Hallelujah!

 ** _Hallelujah!_**

Mary shook herself free of Aquitania's grasp and stood tall beside her fleetmate. She would not cower!

 _I did my best, it wasn't enough._

 _I couldn't feel so I tried to touch._

 _I told the truth, I didn't try to fool ya._

 **And even though it all went wrong.**

 **I'll stand before the Lord of Song!**

 ** _With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!_** ****

 **Hallelujah!**

Hallelujah!

 **Hallelujah!**

 ** _Hallelujah!_**

Both ships finished with their bows gently pressed together. Aquitania kissed the top of Mary's head and Mary nuzzled her cheek. Aquitania settled in at her side. "Rest, aunt. I'm here." Mary whispered. Her order came too late. Aquitania was already asleep. Mary watched over her, listening to the sounds of her breathing.

A few hours later, things were quieting down as sunset approached. Mary looked down at the ship beside her. Aquitania hadn't moved an inch from her position and she was still asleep. But the pattern of her breathing had changed. Leaning down for a closer look, Mary listened and her eyes filled with tears. Aquitania was ready. Ready to cross over. Mary reached down and took one of Aquitania's wires in her own. She gave it a gentle squeeze. She felt Aquitania respond, giving a gentle squeeze of her own before her breathing stopped. Mary burst into tears. She couldn't help it. She pressed her cheek to Aquitania's rapidly cooling side and let her liquid sorrow run down her hull.


	71. Who You Are

"Remind me who's idea this was to be traveling up this river?" "I say it was Susan's." "Wanker!" The three ships laughed. Their accents would suggest they were British as would the flags that flew from their masts but let it be known that Discovery, Susan Constant, and Godspeed all identified with Virginia as their home. "Susan, as flagship I know you don't have to tell us what's going on but could you at least tell us where we're going?" Discovery asked. "It's a surprise." Susan smirked. "I figured you say that." Discovery sighed while Godspeed just rolled her eyes fondly. The three had been together for centuries and the small talk came easily as did the jokes.

"Are we there yet?" "Godspeed do not start that silly game again." Susan groaned but as usual her request went ignored. "I have to go to the bathroom." Discovery whined. "Are we there yet?" "Where are we going anyways?" "Will there be candy?" "I'm hungry!" Susan just groaned, centuries of practice allowing her to tune out the chatter.

She paused when she noticed her fleetmates were not with her anymore. Tacking back around, not an easy task for a ship her size in this small channel, she turned to face them. They were both staring at her in shock. "What?" She asked. "Did I say something?" "You, kinda did." Discovery said in a slow voice, as if she was uncertain how to continue. "If either of you have something to say, just say it." Susan sighed. "You spoke, in Powhatan. We haven't heard you speak the language since, well, _that day._ " Godspeed replied. Susan winced, trying to force clear the memories with little avail.

 _"Those savages have gone too far this time! Burn their villages to the ground! Take everything you can find! Let them know who the true masters of the land are!" "No, this is not the way!" "Quiet Susan, unless you want to join them! ATTACK!" "NO!"_

The memory kept replaying over and over again in her head. The memory she had tried so hard to keep hidden all these years. The memory of that day when she betrayed a friend and the war began! "ENOUGH!" She roared, unable to take the strain any longer. "I KNOW WHAT I DID WAS WRONG! I BETRAYED A FRIEND, A BROTHER! I ALLOWED A WAR THAT NEVER SHOULD'VE HAPPENED! I FORCED A PEOPLE FROM THEIR LAND! IT WAS WRONG. AND I'M SORRY! I'M SO-SO SORRY. PLEASE, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I-I CAN'T. I just can't..." Susan collapsed on her side. She was vaguely aware of Discovery and Godspeed both giving cries of alarm. "I was, going upriver to the place. Hidden, covered by our master's taint! But the pool of the spirits can never be truly destroyed." "You mean, you-you were going to..." Discovery couldn't finish the sentence. "Why didn't you say anything?! We could've helped you." Godspeed cried. "No, no one can help me." Susan sobbed. "I earned my suffering a long time ago."

Susan's gaze shifted skywards. The stars seemed much closer now than they had before. She could hear voices, just on the edges of her hearing. Voices that she knew weren't Discovery's or Godspeed's. The thought crossed her mind that she was dead or dying. Before something told her to rebuke that. She was neither. She was still very much alive. She was just experiencing what she was told was called a "vision". Is this what healer's saw when they communicated with their ancestors? Susan's guilt was overwhelming her and she let it flow. Ships had their religion on the stars, believing that each light in the sky was one of their ancestors, guiding the way across the ocean. As a former healer herself, Susan had a stronger connection to this belief than most and perhaps that was why she was more able to empathize with the Powhatan. And why it hurt her all the more when she was forced to betray them. Betray them for a country that knew nothing but greed and conquest. As her tears ebbed a sense of peace washed over her and she knew, somehow she knew that not just her ancestors but the tribe's as well were forgiving her. They forgave her for what she had done. "Thank you, th-thank you." She sobbed. _"Return to your home, Cloud Carrier."_ Even without the use of her Powhatan name, the tones of the chief were unmistakable to Susan's ears, even now. _"And let the past guide you, not cover you."_

Susan found herself resting against Discovery, the smaller ship gently licking her forecastle. Godspeed stood guard nearby. The stars were beginning to fade as the sun rose over the horizon. Susan groaned. "Was I out all night?" She asked. Discovery paused in her licking. "Yes. Godspeed and I took turns watching you. We figured you must be having some kind of, important dream." She replied. "It was important." Susan began as she calmly allowed her memories to become resurgent. But instead of the guilt she used to feel, she could watch them replay in her mind with the acceptance that came with knowing what she had done was wrong but also knowing she was forgiven for it.

Slowly, she righted herself. The morning breeze was blowing in off the headlands and as it traveled through what remained of the forest, in the few trees that still stood, Susan could hear the spirits singing once again. Eagle with her majestic wings spread across the sky, like the clouds of canvas the ships carried. Mountain, guiding her, helping her through her journey even after she had turned her back on the ways of its people. Mountain was always with her, bringing up the courage within her heart, strong and steady. Steady as the beating drum. Susan, her nose pointed into the wind, closed her eyes as she connected with the part of herself she had thought lost so long ago. When she had chosen England over the Powhatan. Despite the loss of the forest, the rivers once teaming with fish now clogged with pollution and waste, her brothers and sisters, remained. Discovery and Godspeed copied their flagship, Discovery with a cheerful grin on her face. Godspeed had a knowing eye on her flagship before she closed it, leaning into the gentle breeze as her own spirit joined the chorus. Susan tilted her head back and allowed a soft smile to adorn her face as the three relished in the reunion of who they were always meant to be. Cloud Carrier, Flying Fluke, and Eagle's Talon.

 **Seasons go and Seasons come**

 **Steady as the Beating Drum**

 **Plum to Seed to Bud to Plum**

 **Steady as the Beating Drum**


	72. Premonitions

_"What the fuck is that?"_

 _"Jesus, they'll blow our people out of the water. I'm going in!"_

 _"Samson no."_

 _"I'll be fine."_

 _"Incoming, incoming! Samson watch out! NO!"_

"Samson!" John Paul "Paulie" Jones practically leaped out of her berth. She landed hard, bow slamming the dock. "Fuck!" She swore as she tasted blood. Looking at her reflection confirmed she'd broken a tooth. "Arleigh's gonna kill me." She groaned.

"Why'd she do that?" said a voice.

Jones whirled around but instantly relaxed when she saw it was her best friend. "Samson." She breathed a sigh of relief not just that it wasn't someone hostile but that Samson was whole and alive. Not that shattered wreck blown to pieces like she saw in her dream.

"Who else would it be?" The 103 destroyer sniffed with her typical hardheaded attitude. "Jesus fuck Jones you're lucky you're docked on the Honolulu side of things or there'd be a lot more ships awake right now. Screaming in the middle of the night, what's gotten into you?"

Jones, aware of what time it was, ducked her head in shame. "Sorry. Just a bad dream." She said.

Samson sighed, her expression softening. "Care to talk about it."

"We were at RIMPAC. There was this thing and you were..." Jones shuddered even as the vividness of the dream receded.

"I'm still here Paulie." Samson smiled softly. "It was just a dream."

"But what if it wasn't just a dream. I know Arleigh gets them sometimes and those turn out to be true. What if this one..." Jones' distressed whining was silenced as Samson moved into the berth alongside her, gently curling around the younger 53 destroyer.

"Tell you what, I'll stay here tonight. That way I can chase off any bad dreams that come your way." She said.

"You'd do that?"

"Of course. Anything for my best friend."

Jones snuggled into her with a sleepy yawn. The adrenaline dying down, the destroyer was still tired. Samson smiled, shifting until she was settled nicely next to the fellow Arleigh Burke-class. Jones buried her face into Samson's shoulder though the elder destroyer could see she was smiling too. She rested her head on the dock as her eyes began to close.

...

Jones stood beside Samson and Nyoga as the three looked down on the scene below. They had done their fight, Jones carrying on the torch for as long as she could. Now it was someone else's turn.

As one they said _"Finish it, Mo!"_


	73. A Not So Close Call

Atlantis gathered herself as she watched the clock slowly tick down below the 2 minute mark. _"Recovery 1 you are go for launch."_ came the voice of the control tower and the shuttle grinned. "Ever rode 6 million pounds of thrust boys?" She asked. "I'm just a rookie at this honey." came the voice of Acton, her second in command. "You're the queen." Atlantis laughed lightly. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Lieutenant." She said.

Just then, an alarm sounded. Atlantis looked at her dashboard. "We have a seal leak in the external tank." She reported. "Hydrogen leak is imminent." The LHO mix was volatile enough while within the tank. If the hydrogen was allowed to expand outside, the entire stack would go up like Hindenburg! Despite the seeming seriousness of the situation, there was a significant lack of urgency in Atlantis' tone. The shuttle had good acting skills, but she couldn't hide the fact that this was a drill. Still, for her crew it was real enough. "Evacuate!" Acton gave the order and the 5 man crew filed out the crew hatch. In the event of a real leak, Atlantis was meant to blow the bolts holding her to the stack and retreat to safety but for the purposes of the drill, she stayed put. Instead she reported the progress to control. "Payload specialist has reached the basket. Number 2 basket is away." She said. _"Copy that Atlantis. Hydrogen leak in 30 seconds."_ Control replied. "Mission specialist has reached the basket. Number 1 basket is away." She looked back to see Acton pausing at the baskets, facing the hatch. _"What's he waiting for?"_ Control asked. "His commander." Atlantis replied, a note of pride in her voice. She was the only shuttle in the fleet who had opted to go Navy rather than Air Force. At last the commander emerged. "Go! Go!" He ordered and Acton jumped into his basket and hit the lever. At that moment, time seemed to slow down. Atlantis felt a cold chill run down her spine despite it being 90 degrees out. The cable holding the basket strained under the added weight of the astronaut, then with a bang it snapped and the basket, with Acton in it, fell 50 feet straight down. "No!" "No!" roared the commander and the shuttle at the same time. The commander jumped into his basket, the fastest way to the ground and readied to go after his fallen comrade. Atlantis blew the bolts holding her to the stack and slipped down gracefully to the ground which she hit at a run. She reached the basket in a matter of strides. It was lying upright but with both ends of the cable splayed around it. She looked inside and instantly felt sick. "Oh god..." She moaned. Acton lay in a sitting position up against the corner of the basket, his skull split wide open. One of his legs was bent at a funny angle. The chill returned and for Atlantis, there was only one question. Who had killed the Lieutenant!

6 hours later found Atlantis resting in her hanger. She expected there to be a chewing out for her actions. Blowing the bolts was a last resort, meant only for emergencies. With the mission still on, there was a chance it would have to be delayed in order to get her refitted to the stack. Regulations stated that she had to remain detached for at least 24 hours while her blood flow was re calibrated for the ground and horizontal positioning. But there had yet to be anything handed down the pipe. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of a fighter coming in at high speed. All flights had been grounded following the accident so, her curiosity roused, Atlantis poked her head outside. An F-15 landed smoothly on the runway and stopped. It had to be a Navy pilot. Air Force boys had a tendency to use the tarmac. Rising to her wheels, Atlantis rolled onto the taxi way. "What's this about?" She asked the fighter. "JAG investigation ma'am." He replied. "That was fast." She commented. "Your mission is high profile ma'am. And the death of a Navy lieutenant means the Navy wants to have their own team in here as quickly a possible." He said and she nodded. "Yeah." She sighed. "Thank you, commander." "Ma'am." He nodded. Atlantis left for the briefing room, stopping by her hanger to grab her still unfinished report along the way. She knew that JAG would like to interview everyone involved as quickly as possible.

"The Navy must have an excess budget to send two of its lawyers here on a fighter jet." the General said. "Well, JAG asked us to be here as quickly as possible." Rabb replied. "I can see that." The General sighed. "Well, you're in luck. Because one of the astronauts is already in the briefing room. She saw Acton's fall. You can interview her first." He knocked on the door before entering. Inside, Atlantis was just finishing writing her report when she heard the knock. "Enter." She said. She rose to her wheels, standing at attention when she saw the General. "Sir." She greeted. "Captain Atlantis, these two are with JAG. They'd like to ask you a few questions." He said. "That's why I'm here sir." She replied. "You have 15 minutes, Captain. After that, you're needed on the MLP. " Atlantis straightened. "Yes sir." "You're going ahead with the launch?" asked Rabb. Atlantis noted he was a Lt. Commander. "Must be a pretty important mission." "That's need to know commander. Good luck." With a nod to Atlantis, the General left.

Atlantis turned her attention to the two lawyers who were both standing at attention. The girl was pretty, a dirty blond with dark tanned skin. Good toned muscles, probably from one of the sun belt states. Her partner was a head taller and Atlantis was struck by his aura of authority. His handsome looks hid his inner strength. This was a man who had seen and lived through hell, and become stronger because of it. Her respect for him went up a notch. "You may stand at ease." She said and both relaxed. "Ma'am," began Rabb. "Commander, I know why you're here and what you're going to ask." She interrupted. "I just finished writing up my report before you came. Read it over first, then if you still have questions you may ask me anything you like." She passed the report to Rabb who opened the file. While he was reading, his partner noticed something about Atlantis. "You have a piece of grating stuck in your nose gear." She said. Atlantis looked, spotting the chunk of metal. "Huh, so I do." "You didn't notice?" The blond asked. Atlantis shook her head. "No, must've gotten stuck in there when I blew the bolts. I hit one of the walkways on my way down." She explained. "May I take a look at it?" Atlantis eyed her. "You ever worked around shuttles before?" She asked. "No. But my father was an ex-fighter pilot. And he worked on a Tomcat farm as a lead technician in his later years." Atlantis thought for a moment, then consented.

Megan Austin was not the type of individual to be intimidated. She'd been around aircraft all her life, grown up in a man's world. But she hadn't been prepared to be face to face with a space shuttle, and a captain at that! Atlantis was big, easily a head taller than the tomcat she flew in on and twice as strong. Keeping in her view the whole time, Austin eyed the sliver. "Doesn't look like its punctured anything." She said. "Just missed the hydraulic lines." "Good thing too." Grunted the massive shuttle above her. "I need those hydraulics." "I can pull it out if you like." "Get on with it." Atlantis ordered. She winced only slightly as the piece came out. Austin was at her nose a second later. "I didn't hurt you did I?" Atlantis smiled gently. "Nothing I can't handle." She replied. "Captain," Rabb finished reading the report. "You state here you think Lt. Acton was murdered. Why do you think that?" He asked. "That wire had just been put up that morning. It was brand new and had been checked several times. There was no way it could've snapped. Not by accident." She replied. "So you think it was sabotage?" "I _know_ it was sabotage." The General opened the door. "Atlantis, time to go." He said. She nodded. "Coming right now sir." She said. "Commander, care to accompany me to the launch pad?" Rabb glanced at Austin and both seemed a bit confused by the request. "Very well ma'am." He replied, falling into step beside the shuttle. Atlantis watched her pace so he wasn't panting to keep up with her normally much longer stride. Once they were outside, she spoke up. "Commander, there was one thing I didn't put in my report and that was why I thought Acton was murdered." She began. "Go on." Rabb nodded. She took a deep breath. "It wasn't just the cable. Just before the accident I had this feeling. A chill running down my spine. I've only had that happen once before, the morning of my sister's fatal launch." "You sensed Challenger was going to die?" He asked. "I'm certain of it." She replied. "And I'm also certain that's what I sensed here too. I launch in less than 48 hours. Lt. Acton was murdered, Commander. And I expect you to have found the bastard that did this by then and nail his hide to the nearest office door." She growled. "Yes ma'am." He said, snapping off a salute. Atlantis returned it with her cargo arm and continued on to the pad alone.

"Out of the question!" 3 hours later found the General, Rabb, Austin and Atlantis alone in the control room. The shuttle had finished her prep work and was set to be mated to her stack in the morning. Right now, she was clutching a cup of coffee in a death grip with her remote arm and her blue eyes were flashing at Rabb's suggestion to pull Lowery off the mission. "We need Lowery. He's the only pilot qualified to fly this mission!" "Sir, wouldn't it be prudent to delay the launching?" Rabb asked. "Negative, we're going on schedule." The General replied. "Sir, it is my duty to summon a Navy board of inquiry and I can guarantee you that they will not allow Lowery on that spaceflight." Atlantis' eyes were like ice chips as she glared at him. "If you do that, then I can guarantee..." "Captain!" The General interrupted. "Close the door." "Sir!" Atlantis turned, slamming it shut. "Until recently, the US was monitoring eastern China and southeast Asia with a recon satellite in a geosynchronous orbit giving us real time images of the region. 26 days ago, we lost all contact with it. They think the power cells failed." The General explained. "Aren't there other satellites that can pick up the coverage?" Austin asked. "Only intermittently. We're blind 90 percent of the time." Atlantis replied. "And that's not a very good percentage given China's recent show of force." She noted how Rabb stiffened at this and recalled hearing about a Navy commander who had been captured by the Chinese recently. She wondered if Rabb was that commander. "You don't have a replacement satellite ma'am?" He asked. "Launched 2 weeks ago on a titan rocket. Unfortunately, the third stage booster failed and it never made it to proper orbit." The General answered. "That's why I'm going up. To give it a nudge." Atlantis added. "But its in such a low orbit that within a week it'll burn up. So we have to launch now! Dammit!" She cursed. "My sister is better equipped to handle this. Columbia knows how to handle low flying satellites." "You'll do fine Captain." The General reassured. "We have a day and a half until launch." "Which means we have 36 hours to determine what happened." Rabb said. "Which means times a wasting, commander. You'll have our full cooperation in this as long as you don't interfere with launch procedure." Atlantis said and Rabb nodded. "We'll nail the bastard for you ma'am." He promised and the General tried to explain the shuttle's answering grin as anything but bloodthirsty.

"Commander!" Rabb turned in time to see Atlantis bounding towards him. "Nice landing." She grinned. "You'll forgive me when I say I never want to pilot a falling brick again." He said. She chuckled. "Any leads?" She asked. "Gorlton." He replied. "He's the only person who could've had access to the lasers to cut the cable." "I concur." She glanced at the pad. "Keep me informed, commander." "The name's Harm!" He called after her. Shaking his head, he went inside. He had a suspect to catch.

Atlantis was in position but the last thing on her mind was the mission. She'd just received Rabb's file as she'd requested and after reading over it, she held the Lt. Commander in very high esteem. Her first look at him had been wrong. He hadn't just seen hell and lived through it, he'd seen worse, done worse and yet it hardly showed. It took a special type of man for that. _"Recovery 1, control how do you read?"_ "Loud and clear control, go ahead." Atlantis replied. _"Captain, do not grasp that satellite."_ It was Rabb. "Commander what was that?" She asked. _"If you grab that satellite there will be a major malfunction."_ "Explain." She ordered. She was so close to it she could grab it now if she wanted to. _"Gorlton sabotaged the arm._ _There's a charge in the locking mechanism that will destroy the satellite. You must not grab it!"_ Atlantis cursed. She was feet from it now. Quickly, she retracted her arm, swinging around out of the satellite's path. Then and only then did she close the claw on the end of the arm. A massive explosion tore the arm off its mounting. She squealed and for a moment, she couldn't see anything. Then, her senses returned. _"covery 1. Recovery 1 do you copy!"_ "Control, Recovery 1." Atlantis took a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, though I'll be operating without an arm for a while." _"Understood, prepare to receive vectors for entry interface. You're coming home."_ "Copy that, standing by." She paused. "And tell the comm-tell Harm I owe him one."

50 minutes later, Atlantis made a smooth touchdown back at Vandenburg. "Not my most ideal spaceflight ever." She said as she rolled up to the General. "But it could've been a lot worse." She looked at Rabb. "Thank you, Harm." "My pleasure ma'am." He replied. "Atlantis." She corrected, blue eyes twinkling. "My name's Atlantis." She straightened. "You flew Tomcats, correct Harm?" She asked. "Yes Atlantis." He replied. Behind him, Austin and the General shared a knowing look. "One hour Atlantis, then I want you in medical to repair that arm." "Yes sir." She nodded, lowering herself down for Rabb. "Climb aboard, I'll let you fly this one." "I'm a little rusty." Rabb warned. "I can live with that." She grinned. The pair headed for the runway and Atlantis' engines roared as she took to the air. Austin laughed as Atlantis rolled inverted on the climb out, doing a barrel roll before waggling her wings playfully as she gained altitude.


	74. Hell Hath No Fury

Crystal smirked in satisfaction as she viewed the carnage. She had no care of the lives she had just cost. All she cared about was she had struck a blow against her lover, her _ex-lover_. Fitz looked dazed, her side coated in blood. She stared at Crystal, eyes wide with shock and betrayal.

"You killed them!" She rasped. "You killed them!"

"You have only yourself to blame." Crystal replied, her tone cold as ice.

Fitz stiffened "You asked me to follow a course I could not change to. I dare not!"

"I asked you to make a choice. Me or your precious Navy." Crystal retorted, eyes flashing. "And you made your choice."

Fitz shook her head. "What happened to you?" She asked.

"Ask your fleet. Ask about what they've done, for _70 years!"_ Crystal snapped. "Each and every day I wake up and I see my country destroyed bit by bit by your, generosity."

"My country gave yours aid when the one thing all the others wanted was to see you rot!"

"You call 100,000 lives in 3 days aid?" Crystal hissed. "My own grandparents among them!"

"I'm sorry, but it was done to save millions!" Fitz retorted. "Would you rather we destroyed the entire island?!"

"At least we all would've died with our honor intact instead of this-this subservience!" Crystal looked down. "I thought you were different, that somehow I could get you to break the mold. To change. Clearly I was wrong."

"Clearly two bombs weren't enough for you." Fitz growled. "We should've kept dropping them! Kept it up until there was nothing left but a glowing pile of dust!"

"Goodbye Fitz." Crystal turned and sailed away, leaving the American to stare down at the water with nothing more than her thoughts.


	75. A Gift from the Future

_May 1986_  
 _Pasadena Naval Shipyard_  
 _USS Enterprise CVN-65_

Enterprise dozed comfortably in the midday sun. With just a few days until she had to set sail for RIMPAC, she planned to take all the time she could to rest, relax and otherwise enjoy her port leave.

"Ex-excuse me miss but I could use your assistance." said a heavily accented voice. A heavily _Russian_ accented voice. Enterprise reflexively went to General Quarters. "No-no! Don't be frightened, I am not here to harm!" Enterprise blinked and looked down. Ah, there it was. The voice belonged to a man. Average height and wearing a tan leather jacket. He was actually kinda cute with his boyish face. "Then why are you here?" She asked. "I need to get home, and you can help me." She snorted. "You are Russian." She said. "Da." "I'm sorry but I'm not in the business of transporting Russians, so if you'll excuse me..." She turned to go. "I said I am Russian, that doesn't mean I am from Russia." He said. Now Enterprise was intrigued. Intrigued enough to get a closer look at him. He smelled a bit funny, like a mix of old goat and submarine. Not the worlds' best combination. She curled her lip. There was something else too. He had an undercurrent to him. All people did but what was unusual about him is that his undercurrent was off, like out of sync with everything else around him. It was wrong. Not repulsive wrong but still wrong. Like he didn't belong.

Enterprise suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to help him. "What do you need?" She asked. "My ship has fuel but its stabilization properties are absent. A few, ah energetic protons would do the trick." He replied. "Out of the question!" Enterprise snarled. "Please! I am not some kind of, terrorist! I am just trying to get home, Enterprize." "And where is home for you, hmm? And you know my name, but I don't know yours, _Russian."_ She hissed. "Those answers are uh, how do you say it, uh need to know?" "Classified?" Enterprise tried. "Yes, classified." He replied. "Well damn classified. You better answer at least one of these questions or I will sound the alarm right now and have you taken off this base in the back of a squad car!" She threatened. "Very well. I shall answer your first question then." He said. "My home is here. On Earth only it is not the earth you know. It is, different." "What, you mean your some kind of time traveler from the future?" She asked. "Future yes, time traveler no." He replied. "Well you're here aren't you? However long this is before your time." "I mean I am not a time traveler by trade. I am an explorer. I explore space but there has been trouble on earth and coming here is the only way to fix it." "You need my protons to save your world." "No, I need whales. And we found a pair but we cannot get them home if our ship will not fly." "And you need my protons to uh, jump start it?" She asked. "Yes." He replied. She sighed. She should not be listening to this. The guy was crazy, he _had_ to be! Everything about this just seemed impossible. Or some sort of elaborate prank pulled by the submarines! Enterprise suspected Blueback, the last conventionally powered submarine was always railing her about her power plant. Still, Enterprise sensed the guy was telling the truth or at least what he believed to be the truth. This was so hard to wrap her bow around.

Sighing, she said "Very well. How much do you need?" He handed her a small handheld device. "Stick this to your hull and it'll snatch up the protons. It'll beep and blink green when it is full." He explained. "This will drain me." She said. "And I expect to be compensated." "I have compensation for you, Enterprize." He replied. Grumbling, she stuck the device to her hull, noting its small but powerful magnetic clamps. _"Definitely futuristic. We don't have something this powerful. Larger sure but this small, perhaps only in development..."_ Unless the Pentagon was keeping her out of the loop, again. Or Langley, for the umpteenth time again! "Idiots." She sniffed. "Pardon?" "Not you!" She growled, wincing as the draw began to take effect. She sighed as it finally beeped and plucked it from her hull.

He held out his hand for it but she pulled back. "Ah, my compensation first." She said. He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket with his other hand, pulling out a large pink crystal. Enterprise frowned. "Sapphire?" She asked. "I trust you know what to do with it when the time comes." He replied. "And when will that time be?" She asked. "The year is 1986 correct?" "Aye." "Give it 80 years. Then you'll understand." She huffed a sigh. "Enough of this time travel shit, the crystal for the protons, right." She placed the device in his hand just as he handed her the crystal. "Thank you very much. Now, get your stern off this base before I call security." She growled. He turned to go. "Just one last question!" She called, feeling compelled to call him back. It was as though the Ancients themselves were demanding she speak. "Yes, Enterprize?" "What am I to you? In your time?" The question was a valid one, asking if she was alive while at the same time determining her status in his mind. "You are home." He replied, placing a hand on the side of her bow. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch and finding it soothing somehow. As though she had always known him as a friend or perhaps she would know him as such. "And the love of my captain's life. Goodbye Enterprize." "Goodbye." She replied and when she opened her eyes he was gone, leaving her to wonder if she'd ever really spoken to him at all. The crystal she held was all the proof she had that the remarkable conversation she had was real.

 _30 years later  
June 2016  
Puget Sound Naval Shipyard-Nuclear Recycling Docks_

Enterprise finished telling her story to a stunned USS Missouri. "I didn't know what it all meant then. Now I do. It was real, Mo. The show, the films, my own visions, all of it, was _real."_ "I believe you." The battleship reassured her and Enterprise sighed. She struggled to reach around for something and Missouri helped support her weakening deputy as best she could. Enterprise faced Missouri once again, clutching a pink crystal in one of her trap wires. "This-is this..." "Aye." Enterprise rasped, her thin frame rattling with her harsh coughs. Missouri held her bow against her side. When the coughs subsided, Enterprise handed Missouri the crystal. "Take this." She coughed, a bit of blood seeping from her mouth. "Enterprise..." Missouri gasped. "I don't have long, Missouri. Please, take this. Take it and keep it until I return. I have a feeling the next carrier to bear my name will be the one." Missouri's own wire gently grasped the crystal as Enterprise's grip on it weakened. The carrier's wire snaked around Missouri's and pulled her in close, so close their noses were practically touching. "And tell _no one_ what was spoken here today." Enterprise ordered. "You have my word, Enterprise." Missouri promised, and held up the crystal. "I will keep this safe until you return." "I don't know when that will be so if you have to pass it on, then you have my permission to do so." Enterprise said. "You can tell Virginia." "Virginia?" Missouri interrupted. "She should be your next deputy." Enterprise said. "Do you have a problem with that?" "No, it's just, you _hate_ submarines!" Missouri replied. "I don't hate them, not anymore. They're good boats, if a little undisciplined." Enterprise said and Missouri snorted. "But Virginia's a good girl and since you promoted her to COMSUBPAC she's come to understand even more the value of secrecy." "Virginia it is then." Missouri agreed. "But I won't tell her unless absolutely necessary." Enterprise nodded. "Always knew I could count on you Missouri." She gasped. Missouri helped her on her side, propping her bow up so she could breathe better.

The battleship swallowed back her grief which was double that of most other ships due to her connection with her submarine self back on the east coast. SSN-780 was her own ship but she shared the same soul, the same memories as BB-63. The connection was there and despite having never told another soul, Enterprise somehow knew just how deep it ran. The carrier, nearly a hollowed out shell of her former self, gazed up at her flagship, the light in her eyes nearly gone. Missouri was stunned at just how much seeing that hurt her. And she began to understand. For the first time in 50 years she understood. "I love you, Enterprise." She whispered, speaking the words for the first time. Something flashed briefly in her deputy's eyes, excitement maybe. Then she relaxed and offered a gentle smile. "I love you too, Missouri." She sighed. "Do you know for how long I've wanted to say that?" She asked. "Perhaps as long as I have." Missouri replied. "And its taken me this long to figure it out. Too long." "Missouri, I forgive you. I always did and I do so again now." Enterprise said. "You shouldn't." Missouri said. "I'm a shitty old battleship." "Don't think of yourself that way. You are my flagship. My battleship. My, Missouri." Enterprise panted. Missouri closed what little distance remained between them, catching the carrier completely off guard for only the second time in her career. The first being when they first met. It was fitting in a way. Enterprise groaned, pressing into the kiss with everything she had. Their bows creaked under the strain. Enterprise was the first to break off, allowing Missouri to move down to her shoulder, placing several marks there. She could feel the first strings of a bond forming and firmly pushed the battleship away. "No, Missouri! No." She growled. Missouri retreated, looking a little hurt. "I'm hanging on by sheer willpower, Mo. I will not have you form a bond, only to have it taken away from you." Enterprise said. "I want you Enterprise." Missouri whimpered. "You think I don't feel the same about you?" Enterprise chuckled. "I won't have you feeling that pain, Mo. Wait, until I come back." "Without the bond, you won't remember anything." Missouri said. "How do I know you'll even, feel the same way?" "I'll find a way, Mo. I always find a way through the impossible. You know that." Tears fell from Missouri's eyes. "Don't go. Please, I don't want you to..." She begged. Enterprise's eyes shone brightly, as though she was already part of the Ancients. "Look up to the sky tonight, and you will see me. I'll always be here, Mo. I promise." "And you always keep your promises." Missouri chuckled. "Aye." The carrier smiled. "Goodbye, Mo." Enterprise's head flopped against Missouri's side and the battleship shuddered as she felt the heat from her deputy's last exhale. "Enterprise, no." She whispered, stroking her cheek. "No, no, no!" She sobbed.

It took the combined efforts of Iowa and New Jersey to pull Missouri off her lost deputy. "No, she needs me! Please, let me go! Let me go!" Missouri struggled against her sisters. "She's dead, Mo. She doesn't need any of us anymore." New Jersey said. "Please, she, she promised me. She told me... Please, I have to... I love her." Missouri collapsed into Iowa. "I love her." She whispered brokenly. Iowa held her, looking at New Jersey over Missouri's deck. The fleet healer shook her head. "I can't bring back the dead." She replied to Iowa's unspoken question. Between them, Missouri cried harder, the crystal still clutched in her grasp. Thankfully her sisters didn't question her about it because she wasn't sure how she would answer. All she knew was that this crystal was all that she had left of her beloved deputy and she would keep it, until Enterprise sailed to her dock and presented herself as a United States Ship once more.


	76. Sins of Our Fathers

"No! No! No! No! No! And again, no!" growled Kirishima. The Aegis-class destroyer who served as the head of the JDS operations in the home islands was not in a good mood. Her counterpart, United States Seventh Fleet flagship USS Blue Ridge, kept making the suggestion to travel abroad or to Pearl Harbor more precisely. Kirishima wasn't keen on going anywhere _near_ that port if she could help it! Blue Ridge wasn't taking no for an answer though! "Oh come on, Kira! How long has it been hmm? 60, 70 years?" She whined. "76 and counting Blue Ridge but that doesn't change what I did. What I helped be done." Kirishima sighed. "Just what is it you're afraid of?" Blue Ridge asked. "I'm not afraid of anything!" Kirishima huffed. "Sure you aren't." Blue Ridge drawled. "Blue Ridge, just ah how do you say in English, drop it! Okay! Just, drop. It! I'm not going to Pearl. I'm not going anywhere _near_ Pearl! Once was quiet enough." Kirishima huffed. "Fine. Fine." Blue Ridge agreed. Had she been in a better mood and thus better focused, Kirishima might've seen the glint in Blue Ridge's eyes but the moment passed unnoticed. Blue Ridge left shortly thereafter, intending to put her plan into motion. If Kirishima wouldn't go to Pearl. Then Pearl would just have to come to her!

On the east coast, Maryland grumbled as her phone rang. She'd been in port for less than a day after spending the last 3 months underwater! The Ohio-class ballistic missile submarine was not pleased at the interruption to her first good night's sleep in that time. "Maryland speaking, you better have a good reason for calling me at this hour." She grumbled. _"Evening, Maryland. Now is that any way to address a superior officer."_ Maryland perked up a little at the familiar voice on the other end, the voice of the 7th Fleet's flagship. "Only for you Blue Ridge ma'am." She smirked, offering a mock salute even though the cruiser couldn't see it. _"Well, sorry to interrupt your sleep but I need you to make haste over here to Japan."_ Blue Ridge said. "Now?" Maryland asked. _"Yes, right now. You can sleep when you get to Sasebo."_ "Sasebo, not Yokosuka?" Maryland frowned. Sasebo was JDS territory, 7th fleet rarely operated from there. _"Yes, Sasebo your sisters are already en route so you need to get your tailfins in gear."_ Blue Ridge answered. "Which sisters, Blue Ridge?" Maryland sighed. "I've got 17 of them." _"Tennessee, West Virginia, Nevada, and Pennsylvania."_ Blue Ridge replied. _"Virginia confirms Oklahoma City and California are also nearing the coastline."_ "Something tells me you aren't choosing boats at random, ma'am." Maryland said, putting together the names and she wasn't liking the picture she was getting. _"Let me put it this way, the only boat we're missing is named for a state in the Sun Belt."_ "The old gang back together again of BB Row huh? Or is it Sub Row now?" Maryland sighed. _"Look, I've got a ship here who needs a good kick in the pants. She won't go to Pearl so..."_ "So you're bringing Pearl to her. Yeah, I get it. But what makes you think this is a good idea. Pennsylvania's banned from Japan for a reason. She'll go nuts if she sees a JDS boat. Nevada and WeeVee are not as bad but are still troublesome and don't get me started on Tennessee. Ugh, if I hear one more rhyme..." _"Just get over here will ya. You can complain all you want later."_ Blue Ridge hung up leaving a fuming Ohio-class submarine to gather her stuff and head out to sea.

10 days later found the whole group gathered outside Sasebo harbor. California was next to Pennsylvania, watching the larger boomer nervously. Already, Pennsylvania was showing not good signs. She eyed the coastline warily, her gaze radiating mistrust and suspicion. Her body was tense and Maryland feared when Kirishima showed she'd just put a torp in her face before the Jap boat could say a word. Maryland wasn't fond of the Japs herself. None of them were and with good reason. But Blue Ridge had asked that they play nice so the subs would play nice. "Two boats, bearing 260." Nevada called, eyeing the approaching duo through her periscope. All the subs tensed as Blue Ridge and Kirishima drew closer. The 7th fleet flagship slowed to a halt, knowing the subs were there. She'd arranged for them to be there after all. "Alright girls," She said. "Come on up."

One by one, the boats that represented their unfortunate predecessors rose to the surface, shedding water off their decks in a magnificent rainstorm of Pacific swell. 7 boats in all, all submarines. All former battleships. All present on that day. "JDS Kongo I presume." Nevada said. "As the most senior submarine present, she was responsible for making introductions." "Yes, and you are?" "I, am USS Nevada. These are my sister ships, introduce yourselves girls, don't be shy." She grinned. Maryland rolled her eyes. "I'm USS Maryland." "USS Tennessee, nice to meet ya!" "USS West Virginia, how do you do." "California here, oh sorry USS California, hi there!" "USS Oklahoma City, or just Oklahoma if you please. 'Tis the same thing, lassie!" "USS Pennsylvania." Kongo eyed the last submarine. "Suppose I don't deserve a greeting from you." She said. "Don't deserve a greeting? Well that's putting it mildly. How 'bout I put a torp up your ass. That's about as honorable a death as hitting me on a Sunday!" Pennsylvania snarled. "Cool it!" Blue Ridge ordered. "I didn't summon you all here to fight Round 2." "Why did ya then?" Tennessee asked. "To forgive a ship who doesn't deserve your blame." Blue Ridge replied. "She was part of the attack! Why should we?" California asked. "That's good enough reason for us to say no." agreed West Virginia. Nevada however, remained silent so Blue Ridge looked at her. "Nevada, what do you think?" The sub felt her sister's eyes on her as well as Kongo's. "I think that maybe Blue Ridge has a point. I mean, Kirishima was part of the fleet that attacked us but she didn't actually take part." "Hmph, that's like saying we're not at fault when our carrier does something like blow up a city, wouldn't you agree Oklahoma City." "Enterprise was cleared of any doing in the matter, it was the Iraquis who were at fault, Pennsylvania!" "Enough!" Maryland growled, flicking her rudders for silence. "We all came here to talk, not fight." "You came here to talk." Pennsylvania muttered. "Lock it up, Lieutenant." Maryland hissed. "She's right." Kongo interrupted. "This has been tearing away at both our souls for far too long." She turned to the Ohio-class. "So, go ahead then. I'm right here. My weapons are disengaged. Take me out." "I would do it in a heartbeat, if it weren't for a fact that Blue Ridge would put a torp up my stern the instant I tried." Pennsylvania replied in a low hiss. "The chain of command shouldn't stop revenge. It didn't stop me from doing things I regretted later. Why should it stop you?" Kongo asked. "Because as you say Jap, I'll regret it later." Pennsylvania said. "And why is that, do you think, Pennsy?" "Don't call me that!" Pennsylvania snarled. "It stops me because as much as it pains me to say it, we are allies now. I won't, I can't ever forgive you for what you've done to me! To my sister!" "And how was that Kirishima's fault?" Blue Ridge interrupted. "She didn't launch those planes. She acted as an escort, a screen like you do sometimes." "True." Pennsylvania allowed, the light in her eyes dimming a little. "Now girls, if Akagi or Kaga or one of them comes back then you have my permission to, troll them. A little." She added as she noted mischievous grins between a few of the subs. She'd be regretting this, she knew she would be regretting this. Submarines had very little sense of right and wrong and often used that to be little shits instead of military assets.

Strangely, it was Pennsylvania who was the first to speak up and when she did, what she said was not what anyone expected. "I know what we are to each other now. What we're supposed to be. And it's not you I'm angry at Kongo. Not JDS Kongo but, well it's more that the JMSDF recycled the name instead of consigning it to hell where it belongs. Makes me wonder, makes us wonder..." "If we really learned our lesson." Kongo finished. "I understand, USS Pennsylvania." The submarine nodded. "I forgive JDS Kongo and beg for her forgiveness for my actions today." She said. "Apology accepted." Kongo said with a smile. The other subs echoed Pennsylvania and when they were finished, Blue Ridge was grinning. "I told you they'd be reasonable." She said. "Doesn't mean I'm coming to Pearl, Blue Ridge." Kongo said. "I learned that lesson well and hard." "What if we invited you." Nevada said. "You would-you would do that, for _me?!"_ "Your big sister is welcome to come along." Maryland smiled. "We came to your waters, it's only fair if you came to ours." agreed West Virginia. "WeeVee has a point, you're welcome anytime." Tennessee said. "Tennessee first off stop with the rhyme. And second off, don't call me WeeVee!" West Virginia hissed. "Sure thing, WeeVee." "Gah!" Blue Ridge chuckled. "Well JDS Kongo, you gonna accept their invitation or what?" She asked. If Kongo had any reservations they were thrown out the window as all 7 submarines gave her the big eyes which were twice as cute as a destroyers for some reason. Pennsylvania had the cutest face of all but whether that was by design or simply because she almost always looked sad was unclear. Either way, the looks made Kongo's decision for her. "Oh alright. Drop the cute eyes, you're gonna make me diabetic looking that cute." She huffed. The subs all broke out into excited squeals, bouncing and high finning each other. Pennsylvania joined in as well, though slightly less enthusiastically than her sisters she still seemed genuinely happy about the turn of events.

"The sins of our fathers are not our own Kongo." Blue Ridge murmured to her. "Aye." The JDS home flagship agreed.


	77. Miracle Worker

_January 12, 1922_

Adriatic had fixed broken bones, she had healed even the most grievously injured ships (cue her sister Celtic) and she had single-handedly brought back her fleet from the brink after the Influenza scare a few years back. All this and more was why she was considered a miracle worker. And why the Royal Navy chose her over their own extremely qualified group of healers for this job. A job that Adriatic, though supremely confident in her abilities, was not sure even she could fix.

A groan snapped her out of her thoughts and Adriatic turned her attentions back to her patient. "You hush." She growled gently but firmly. "I don't want you using any more strength than you have to." Ignoring her order, the scarred blind eye that faced her opened and its owner raised her head slightly. "The war and this sickness haven't killed me yet." Victory rasped. "What did I just tell you?!" Adriatic snarled, shoving her back down. Victory was too weak to fight her but she made it known with a glare that she wasn't intimidated by the much larger steel hulled ship. Now that she was laying flat again Adriatic looked her over.

The last few years had been hard on everyone but they had been especially hard on Victory. The war had taken its toll and then the influenza came. That combination had killed Dreadnought and the sickness sapped what remained of Victory's strength. Now her extreme age was doing the rest. Adriatic was in a race against time and so far, time was winning. She refocused on her work, feeling each one of Victory's bones just beneath her hull. "Damn it Victory, have you even been eating?" She asked. "Of course I have." The old ship snorted. "Doesn't do any good though." Adriatic had no way to diagnose what was wrong with her but it could be any number of things or a combination of several. One thing she could see though was rot and a lot of it. Whatever else was afflicting Victory, this was priority one for the White Star healer.

Just as Adriatic started her work, Victory shuddered beneath her. She exploded in a series of harsh coughs that rattled her skeleton frame. Adriatic moved towards her bow in time to see a trickle of black tar run from Victory's mouth. Victory started to choke and she struggled to expel the fluid as it clogged her airways. Adriatic lifted her head, taking the weight for her as she relieved the pressure off her lungs. Victory coughed several more times, a bit more tar coming out. Then it stopped for a moment and Adriatic, thinking she was done, made to set her head back down. She was surprised when Victory convulsed and suddenly lunged forwards, retching. Thinking fast, Adriatic grabbed a bucket off the dock and held it under her muzzle. Victory vomited noisily into it, thick black tar pouring from her mouth. Adriatic held her, re positioning her so she could better clear her lungs and stomach of the foul smelling tar. Within the tar came chunks of stuff that at first Adriatic thought was food but she quickly realized it was something far worse. She recognized the shape from her old textbooks. Steel ships didn't have the need to learn about them as they were not a problem but Adriatic had read up on the older books just in case. That extra knowledge came in handy now for it allowed her to quickly recognize the deathwatch beetle. The bug was aptly named to say the least as it was often the death sentence for wooden ships. They burrowed their way deep into a ship, turning their hulls into sawdust and cutting through internal organs. They loved to lay their eggs in the lungs of a ship and when the eggs hatched, the new beetles would migrate to the ships stomach, liver, and kidneys. Like all parasites, they liked having their hosts alive for as long as possible and such was the case here. Death came neither quick nor painless. The ship would slowly rot away as the beetles consumed everything from the inside out. It was a terrible, _terrible_ way to die and from the looks of things, Victory was farther along than any ship who had been saved before.

"Victory, how long have you been coughing these things up?" Adriatic asked. "Months. It started not long after I began to lose weight." Victory managed to rasp out between retches. Struggling mightily now, Adriatic could see she didn't have the strength to keep this up much longer and gave her a hard whack right across the back of her shoulders. The jolt went straight to her lungs, forcing them to expel their contents and both ships were rewarded with an almighty retch and then splat! Whole batches of cream white eggs all in various stages of incubation dropped into the bucket. Victory looked ready to settled down again but Adriatic hit her again. "You're gonna keep coughing until all those are out." She growled. Again, Victory retched, spitting up more eggs. And again Adriatic would hit her. They kept this up for a good hour until Adriatic, feeling that enough had been expelled to give them a fighting chance, gave Victory a respite. "We're gonna do this again tomorrow and every day thereafter until you've thrown up all the bugs." She said. "I was afraid you were gonna say that." Victory groaned. Adriatic just chuckled, giving her a nuzzle as she cleaned away the tar from around her mouth before setting a fresh bucket beside her. "Use this if you need it during the night." She said and Victory nodded. "I'll be back in the morning." Adriatic promised.

And indeed she was, right a the crack of dawn. Despite being a commissioned naval ship, Victory had gotten used to the dock life and wasn't awake when Adriatic came in. "Rise and shine sleepy bow." She teased, giving Victory a nudge. Victory groaned. "Bugger off." She rasped, voice scratchy from a day of retching and a night filled with coughing. She'd hardly slept a wink. Adriatic smiled, pleased that not even her pitiful condition could file the old ship's sharp tongue. "Alright, up you get." Adriatic hauled Victory to her keel, propping her against her side. Eyes half open, Victory only moaned but she all out hissed when she saw the bucket being placed in front of her again. "None of that." Adriatic chided her. She didn't give her a chance to moan and groan some more. This time, instead of striking her on the back, Adriatic hit a pressure point on her left side. Victory stiffened then convulsed as she started retching in earnest. Whatever food she'd managed to consume came up within moments. After a few retches the tar started to appear. There were fewer eggs this time, a good sign, but lots and lots of juvenile and adult bugs dislodged from their places in her stomach by the action of her vomiting. That still left those in other places though. Adriatic had an idea how to deal with them but she wasn't looking forward to it. After several hours, Adriatic gave Victory a break. Victory lay sprawled against the dock where she'd collapsed to when Adriatic called it quits. She was too exhausted to move an inch. She just looked up at the healer, nearly catatonic. Adriatic stared down at her, trying to conceal the worst of her worry. Her concern was too strong to hide completely. She was trying her best but she was still losing Victory. What strength the old ship had was being sapped readily by the bugs and Adriatic's vomiting sessions weren't helping but she didn't know what else to do. There was one other option but it was incredibly risky and could just end up killing Victory anyway or leaving her in a far worse state than before. But Adriatic was out of time and options. She had to do something and she had to do it now. Looking down at Victory she met that blue gaze, full of agony and suffering but still carrying a glint of hope. She sighed and helped Victory attain a more comfortable position against the dock. She tilted her nose up, free of the water so Victory didn't have to waste energy holding it clear. "Don't move. I'll be right back." "M no' goin' an'where." Victory moaned, her sentence barely intelligible. Exhaustion played through every word. Adriatic gave her a pitying look, then sailed off.

She returned a few minutes later with a plate full of food. "You're going to eat every bite of this and I don't want to hear a word of argument." She said. Victory had managed to catch her breath enough to raise her head to receive the first bite. "So I can just throw it up later. Why waste such a good meal?" She groaned. "I'm not gonna make you throw up again." Adriatic said. "Why not?" Victory asked as she took another bite, savoring the taste of the meat. Adriatic really knew how to make a good hearty meal. "Because your strength is failing faster than those bugs are leaving. The only thing I can do now is flush them out all at once." "How are you going to do that?" Victory asked. "Very carefully. And with any luck, by this time tomorrow you should be bug free." "I'll drink to that." Victory grinned, reaching for the bottle of rum Adriatic had brought with her. "Ah, tomorrow." Adriatic chided. Victory pouted. "I'm old school, made of rum, sodomy and the lash and I can't have my rum?!" Adriatic nearly rolled her eyes. "When your better, you can have your rum back." She said. "Promise?" Victory's begging face could only be described as adorable and Adriatic couldn't help but smile. "Promise." She said. "Now open wide. Here's another bite."

During the night, Victory was plagued by bouts of pain. The beetles that remained within her knew something was up and scurried for cover, burying themselves in the soft flesh of her organs. And chewing their way through any opening they could find. It was agony and for a few brief, terrible moments, Victory thought she might just give up and die. But then she remembered what Adriatic told her. If she could just hold on for a few more hours, this would all be over by morning. She had lived with these beetles for years, she could live with them a bit longer.

Morning came and Adriatic came by just as she had said. She was carrying cylinders of something that Victory noticed were labeled "poisonous." Adriatic set them down with a clatter on the dock, closing the last little distance between them rapidly when she saw Victory's state. The beetles new burrowing actions had a heavy price and the old ship had been coughing up blood for most of the night. Blotches marred her hull, marking the spots where the beetles had had their fun. "I'm so sorry." Adriatic whispered, her guilt clearly evident. Victory could see it flaring in her eyes and chose to nip that in the bud right then and there. "Don't be. Don't you ever be sorry." She growled. "I assume those canisters you brought are bug bombs?" She asked. Surprised, Adriatic took a moment to respond and Victory was patient though she wasn't going to give her too much time. "Yes." She replied. "Victory, as a healer yourself I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous this is." She said. "No, you don't." Victory sighed. "But I don't see how we have much of a choice. Get on with it." Adriatic nodded, picking up three of the canisters placing them on different points along Victory's hull. "Open these gunports for me please." She asked, tapping on three doors on Victory's lowest set. The man o'war obliged her, opening the hatches. The cannons themselves stayed stowed. Adriatic put a light to the end of each wick on the canisters and gently tossed them inside through the hatches. "Now close them." She ordered and Victory did so. Adriatic got the second set of canisters ready as the first ones did their job. Her top gundeck wasn't really that badly affected so she hardly felt a thing. After 15 minutes, Adriatic opened the hatches and removed the empty canisters. Now came the second gundeck and once again, three more canisters were lobbed inside from three more hatches. This time Victory felt the effects and she hissed as some bugs sensed the danger and tried to burrow deeper before they were quickly overcome by the gas. Adriatic picked up the third set of canisters and Victory noticed they were much bigger than the previous two. She felt fear for the first time in what seemed like ages. Adriatic caught her expression. "May I remind you, that we don't have to do this..." She began. "Stuff it. We're doing it. Get these pests out of me once and for all." Victory growled. "Aye aye ma'am." Adriatic replied and lit the three. Unlike the first two, these larger canisters were meant to kill the eggs as well as the adults which meant they were twice as potent. The risk was that their potency would overwhelm Victory's organs and not just kill the bugs but kill her as well. Adriatic kept a close eye on her. If she survived the next 15 minutes, then she would live.

For the first 5 minutes all was well, then Victory began to feel the effects. She groaned, turning green as her stomach churned. Now she understood why Adriatic had given her that full meal the night before. "You sneaky, rusting son of a..." A stream of hot vomit sprayed out from Victory. Adriatic held the bucket in front of her as a shield, wincing as chunks got through. Victory went through wave after wave of vomiting far worse than anything she had to endure. Her entire body was reacting to the bug bombs, flushing out all the parasites from all the far corners of her body. After several intense minutes, the vomiting stopped. Adriatic lowered her bucket shield, unable to do much more than stare in horror as Victory rolled on her side. Then her well honed healer instincts took over. "Victory no!" She roared, rushing forward and tossing the bucket aside where it landed right side up on the far side of the dock. "Don't you dare. Don't you bloody fucking dare!" She cradled the old ship's head, resting it against her shoulder. "I know you're tired. I know you're in agony but please, _please,_ please hold on a little bit longer. 5 more minutes, that's all I'm asking for. 5 more minutes. Come on." Victory's eyes rolled around her head as she struggled to obey the healer's order. "Victory, come on." Adriatic begged. Victory continued to fade and Adriatic realized she wasn't going to make it. In desperation, the healer adjusted her grip, raising her head a bit more then kissed her and kissed her hard. No ship had kissed Victory since Trafalgar and certainly none had done so in this manner. Adriatic could feel Victory stiffen in surprise but the healer wasn't done yet. There was only one more way to keep her alive and Adriatic did what only a healer could do. She created a bond on her own. The process was quite simple really and quick too. Once complete, Adriatic poured her strength into it. Since the bond was created with the consent of only one partner, only Adriatic could control it. Victory might not even be aware of it. Adriatic pushed and pushed, feeling satisfaction as she sensed Victory's strength grow. The clock ticked past 15 minutes and Victory, although unconscious, was stable.

After all the celebrations and fanfare were over with, HMS Hood finally was free to sail where she pleased. A part of her wanted to go to the White Star docks and check in with her flagship. But there was a more pressing matter and making her decision, she set her bow for the other side of the harbor. Victory lay on her side, the water coated in all manner of bodily fluids. Adriatic was beside her, her larger bulk hiding much of the old ship from Hood's view. Victory seemed so still that Hood feared the worst. Clearing her throat, the battlecruiser came forward. "RMS Adriatic?" Though a merchant, Adriatic was a well respected healer and a member of her flagship's line. Hood felt it only proper to address her formally. Adriatic hadn't expected the newcomer and was startled out of whatever she had been doing. "HMS Hood." She greeted in return with a dip of her brow. "Is Victory.. How is she?" Hood's need to know filled her words. Adriatic didn't answer right away, instead she turned back to her patient. Hood waited as patiently as she could manage although inside she was filled with anxiety and dread, lest the healer's answer be a painful one. At last, Adriatic turned back to her and Hood could see the exhaustion written in every rivet of her hull. She'd been working her stern off these last 3 days and now here was this young battlecruiser interrupting her work. Hood suddenly felt sheepish and shameful. Adriatic for her part was thinking over her answer. Victory still needed a lot of work. She had several other problems, the most serious of which, a chronic case of consumption, Adriatic had taken on herself when she established the bond. A foolish move some might say as Adriatic knew that for a ship of her type, the disease would eventually kill her. But it would've killed Victory a lot sooner. The old ship couldn't stay in the water. That much was clear. The damage done by the beetles meant that a drydock was necessary if she were to live. But Adriatic didn't voice any of this to Hood. Instead, she just sighed and went for the simplest honest answer she could give. "She's going to be just fine."


	78. Friends Today

_1914, Kiel Germany_

Wettin was an older ship. One of the oldest battleships currently in commission. "I'm too old to be doing this." She grumbled. Beside her, Britannia laughed. The KEVII class dreadnought was one of several ships staying the week for Kiel Week. A little 'friendly competition to liven things up' as the also present Yanks put it. Wettin stared at their flagship, New York, anchored across the harbor and offered a respectful nod which she returned.

"Come on, you bothered by a little show dancing?" Britannia snickered, adopting a pose. She grimaced and relaxed again. "On second thought you might have a point." She amended and it was Wettin's turn to laugh. "There, there." She soothed, rubbing Britannia's decks. The British dreadnought groaned. "I think I've done more posing this week than I have my entire life." She said. "Not that I mind the press but," "It's better to be at home behind the fort walls and get chummy with the boys." Wettin finished. "Yeah, I hear you. I for one, am keen to get back to Bremerhaven." "Have you broken through that wall yet?" Wettin had a concrete barrier set up at the edge of the harbor normally used for shooting practice. She had taken to ramming it repeatedly in the hopes that 'its ugliness would no longer grace my view'. "No." If Britannia didn't know any better, she'd say the German was pouting. "I don't know why you keep doing that to your bow. It can't be healthy to have that many concussions." She said. "Oh concussions don't have any effects on me." Wettin said. "They don't?" Britannia asked. "What don't?" Wettin frowned. "Concussions." "What about them?" "Gah!"

Wettin was trying very hard not to laugh when another ship came up, a very nervous looking cruiser. "Pardon me ma'ams but this just came in for you." She handed Britannia a folded telegram. "Thank you, Hampshire." Hampshire saluted and left. Britannia opened it and promptly turned white as a sheet. "Bad news?" Wettin asked. "The worst." Britannia breathed, she crumpled the message as though she could crush it out of existence with her own strength. Her blue eyes were dark but alert, the kind of alertness one never saw in a warship in peacetime and that's when Wettin knew. "How long?" She asked. "How long do we have?" "I don't know." Britannia rasped out. "The Archeduke was assassinated by Serbs, I don't even know if we'll... I just don't know, Wettin." "At the very least you've been ordered home, I imagine." Wettin said and Britannia nodded. She sighed. "I pray this won't be the last time we see each other." She said. "But should what you fear come to pass, then I shall pray this is."

Britannia gathered her fleet together and as they sailed out of the harbor, Wettin met her at the entrance, surrounded by her own small flotilla. They all snapped to attention as their British guests sailed past. Wettin came right up to Britannia. "Save travels home." She said. Britannia pressed her nose to hers. "Friends today, friends tomorrow, friends forever." She replied and sailed out, never to return.


	79. Ship Health 1

_Since some of you faithful readers have been wondering about how ships get certain illnesses/injuries I've compiled a list of these for you to read and understand._

 **Propellerous:** Propellerous has existed long before the advent of propellers however it was renamed when it was noticed that the biggest outward sign of the disease, and the best way to diagnose it, were distinctive leopard like spots on a ship's propellers. Propellerous (formally called Hullerous for the same blotching on wooden ships' keels) typically appears in older ships of 15 years of age and up. A variety of circumstances can cause Propellerous to appear and in fact several things at once have to work in tandem to cause the disease to advance, age being one of them. Another circumstance is whether or not the ship is being driven too hard. Too much work can leave even a young ship open to disease, never mind one in her golden years. It is important for ships of these years to be well maintained and given easy schedules that reduce the stresses they might encounter. Even with these precautions, Propellerous can sometimes appear suddenly and without warning. How Propellerous enters a ship is still not well understood. Scientists have long since debated on where it comes from. Some have studied that it exists in bacteria laden harbors and the latest cases would certainly support that idea. But others say it comes about like a cancer, due to incorrect copying of DNA cells. Propellerous does use this process to advance itself however. However it comes about, what we do know is that once it is active in a ship, it rarely if ever, leaves that ship unscathed. A few vessels have a natural resistance to it and are able to fight off the disease, the most notable examples being HMS Victory and RMS Atlantic. Propellerous acts upon a ship like several different types of cancers at once, which is part of the reason why it's so deadly. Starting in the blood stream, it works its way into a ship's lungs creating an affect very similar to that of a heavy smoker. Ships that already indulge too much will have the worst time of it here. Later, the disease will spread, using the ship's veins as a means of transport. A ship's immune system typically can't fight it off unless the antibodies for the disease already exist. The reason for this is as soon as the disease enters the bloodstream it not only latches onto DNA cells but becomes part of them through the replication process, fooling the body's natural defenses. Next, it enters the bones, weakening them to the point where it becomes impossible for the ship to support its own weight. Unable to move and hunt, the ship slowly starves to death. Most vessels are usually spared this with a quick but merciful bullet to the head. Propellerous was a certified ship killer back in the day, sometimes decimating whole fleets and putting entire shipping lines into bankruptcy. Most vulnerable are the cheep carriers who purchase old and used ships and can't afford the maintenance to keep them completely up to date. Propellerous as a disease has only been successfully combated as late as 2012 when US Navy Chief Fleet Healer USS Arleigh Burke, found a way to inject fresh antibodies into ships that had early stage Propellerous. The treatment thus far has been successful and the US Navy is instigating vaccination programs to help fight against the disease that once had a kill rate of 90%.

 **Constriction/Consumption:** This disease has two names that are often interchangeable. Most fleet healers prefer the term "consumption" however a majority of ships call it "constriction" for the purposes of this article, it will be referred to as the latter. Constriction in the early days of sail was not a fatal disease and was easily treatable. But with the advent of metal ships, it has become a major problem. A metal ship's inner workings are a great deal more sensitive than a wooden vessel's and as a result, many modern vessels have perished because of this disease. Constriction gets its name for the squeezing action it places on a ship's internal organs, at least that's what victims of it say it feels like. The process is gradual. What at first might feel like a gentle pat on the back can quickly become a life threatening/killing 'hug'. Much of what we know on Constriction is from the journals of RMS Adriatic, White Star's Chief Healer from 1909 to her death from the disease in 1936. Adriatic was a unique case, having not contracted the disease herself but taking it into her from a patient through a healer bond. (Bonds will be discussed in greater detail in another article) After her contraction, Adriatic kept detailed logs about her experiences. Her vast knowledge of healing helped her survive over twice as long as other ships who contracted Constriction, lasting nearly 15 years. Her notes provide modern day healers with means of current treatments to extent the lives of patients. However, despite extensive research, there is no cure for this disease.

 **Sand Sickness:** Ships have always referred to this disease as Sand Sickness, perhaps as a play on the human 'Sea Sickness'. As humans get sick at sea, ships get sick on land. Sand Sickness generally comes about shortly after a vessel runs aground, gets rammed, rams another ship, or otherwise receives an injury on the water. The most common form comes about after striking a reef or sandbar hence its name. It acts upon the ship like a mild case of the flue, causing fever, aches and pains, as well as nausea and vomiting in some cases. Its severity depends greatly on both the age of the ship and past experience. Usually if a ship hasn't had a prior accident, that's considered a good thing. But when a ship gets this disease, they would be wanting to have that. Severity generally tends to lesson if a ship has been stricken with this disease before and the younger a ship is the better off they'll be. Sand Sickness is typically not deadly unless the ship has suffered a particularly grievous injury. Treatments vary but none have really proven to be effective. For the most part ships just have to ride it out on their own.

 **Norovirus:** Norovirus is the ship version of the flue! A nasty gastro-intestinal illness that is often seen in the news when poor cruise ships get stricken with it. Like the flue, it is highly contagious and is one of the only ship diseases that is transmittable to humans. News reports like to state that people bring it on board but its actually the ships themselves that come down with it first. However since the incubation period in ships is longer than that of humans it appears as though humans give it to the ships. The symptoms are much the same as in the human flue, with fever, vomiting and diarrhea the main problems. Once a norovirus appears ships are trained to head for the nearest port and isolate themselves. Severity and length vary greatly and it generally depends on a ship's immune system. Some vessels burn the disease off after a day or two. Others linger with it for weeks by which time it gathers in the lungs and generally turns into a case of pneumonia. For older ships this can be a death sentence. However generally norovirus is not a deadly illness, just a very miserable one. Most ships, especially passenger ships, receive vaccines once a year to protect them against the norovirus but like the flue the norovirus is constantly evolving and new strains appear constantly, meaning that the vaccines don't always work.


	80. Ship Health 2

_The following is a list of general injuries a ship can receive. Specific incidents are too numerous to list and so will be left out of this list._

 **Gash/Scrapes:** Otherwise known as a "hull breach" gashes occur when a ship/s strike something their hull was not designed to take. Whether it be an accidental grounding or a well placed blow during a fight, the results can be catastrophic. A scrape is any breach in the hull less than 3 inches long and less than 3 inches wide. Anything larger is a gash and is treated as a serious injury. Ships have a series of veins running just behind their outer hulls to help regulate their temperatures based upon the outside climate. A gash runs a high risk of rupturing at least several of these veins which can often lead to a ships temperature swinging wildly out of control and will leave the ship either with a life threatening fever or a dangerous case of hypothermia. This is especially true for most modern large ships that are increasingly dependent on these natural temperature regulators.

 **Hernia:** Ships are approximately five times more susceptible to hernia's than humans are and it is the most common reported ailment. The reason is because every mechanical piece of internal engineering has the potential to cause this sort of trouble simply by breaking or falling out of alignment. Most of the time, the hernia's are small and usually caused by something as simple as a failed bulb fixture. Others, such as a catastrophic failure in the engine room can lead to serious side effects and will kill a ship if not treated immediately. One such example was Oceanos in 1991. The aging cruise liner suffered a sudden breakage in one of his internal pipes which immediately lead to massive internal bleeding. A ship keeps seawater out simply by the blood pressure circulating around the bilges. The action of the blood against the open areas of the hull keeps the seawater out. As Oceanos bled, his blood pressure dropped causing the seawater to flood in. He was dead and sunk in a matter of hours.

 **Indigestion:** This is often a more miserable injury than a truly dangerous one. Caused by taking in the wrong food, too much food, or in more serious circumstances, an unforeseen blockage in the ship's digestive system, indigestion on a ship is in one word, disgusting! Cruise ship crews are always on the look out for this since their ship has to share excretion routes with its passengers. And the more people, the more waste and the more likely there is to be a problem. The human waste is kept separate from the ships' and put into specialized holding tanks isolating it from the rest of the body until it can be offloaded. However sometimes the waste can back up creating an overflow into the ship's own internal waste system. The result is an unpleasant time for the passengers and an even more unpleasant time for the ship. The ship herself will experience nausea if not vomiting as well as periodic and random bouts of severe diarrhea. It's important to keep the ship hydrated and fed during this time as they will not desire to eat anything and taking in more food is the best and only known way to dislodge any blockage. If the blockage isn't removed in a quick and timely matter, then the problem escalates into our next listed injury: colic.

 **Colic:** Colic is best known for its affect on horses. Just as with them, colic in ships is life threatening! Colic can be caused by any number of things the most frequent of which is indigestion gone wrong. It can develop into colic very quickly and become a serious if not fatal problem if not quickly treated. Colic is generally only a concern with passenger ships as the large numbers of people can overwhelm and sometimes wreak havoc on a ships' digestive system. The most serious case was Carnival Legend in 2013. The problem started when a shattered crankshaft sent debris flying into Legend's sensitive organs, causing several blockages. The sewer systems backed up and people were forced to go in red bio-hazard bags. Legend spent the next 3 days under tow to Florida where she was treated for an acute case of colic. Fortunately, medic were able to clear the blockage in time. Other ships have not been as lucky.

 **Engine Troubles:** Engines troubles are the most severe of all the injuries a ship can receive regardless of their severity. The engines are the beating heart of the ship. They serve a dual purpose in that they burn the fuel to provide power but also each rpm of the shafts pumps the ship's oil-like blood around enabling all her vital functions. Even a small problem can have a profound affect such as the loss of a propeller blade. As most ships today have more than one propeller they are more than capable of returning to port but they most due so at a reduced speed. Attempt to travel faster and the power necessary for that speed will be taken away from the engine's ability to maintain the ships' vital functions. In essence, to go faster means death. Severe engine troubles such as an exploding turbine or a broken shaft (the latter the equivalent of a broken leg) can lead to further complications if immediate treatment isn't sought.


End file.
